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IKHelleele^ /H^apsine 


P. K. 


Some of Our Life Guards 
A Few Fables 

Edith J. Claypole . 
















irt/>i ii\ Q 

rs*misirv> 1Q07 na^ a 

Entered in the Post Office at Wellealey, Mass., as second-class matter. 

"The added pleasure of riding a 
Columbia is worth every dollar 
of the $ 100 a Columbia costs/' 

The supremacy of Columbias is ad- 
mitted. They are Standard of the 
World. If you are able to pay $100 
for a bicycle, why buy any other? 

Foil information about Columbias and the 
different Models for men and women — and 
for children, too — is contained in the hand- 
somest art book of the year. Free from any 
of our Branch Houses and Agencies or by 
mail for two 2 -cent stamps. 

POPE MFG. CO., Hartford, Conn. 

Branch Stores and Agencies in every city and 
town. If Columbias are not properly represented 
in your vicinity, let us know. 

All Columbia Bicycles ere fitted with 






. . . ON • • • 


Exchange on London, Paris and Berlin. 


50 State St., Boston. 




Made to 


Banners and Bunting. 


521 Washington Street, 
Opp. The R.H.White Co. BOSTON, MASS. 


175 Tremont Street, 
Evans House. Boston, Mass. 

H. H. CARTER & CO., 

Stationers & Engravers 


20 per cent Discount 


Made by Wellesley College Students. 

5 Somerset St. (near Beacon), 




Opposite Railroad Station, Wellesley. 

Flowers and Plants of the choicest varieties for all 
occasions; Palms, etc., to let for decoration. 

FLOWERS carefully packed and forwarded 
by Mail or Express to all parts of the United 
States and Canada. 

tUf Orders by mail or otherwise promptly attended to. 
Connected by Telephone. 


10 School Street, Boston 

High=Class Watch Repairing 

Special attention given to 
Furnishing Watches of fine Time- 
keeping qualities 

Late Head Watchmaker at Bigelow, Kennard & Co.'s 
Refer to the Officials of the Howard National Bank 




Ladies when looking for the latest designs in****^^ 




and other styles of HAND CAMERAS. 




up one flight. 50 Bromfield Street, Boston, Mass. 



For Dress Garniture and 
Mid=Season Millinery^ &> 

We have just received direct from Paris a splendid assort- 
ment of exquisite French Flowers, suitable both for Dress 
Garniture and Mid-Season Millinery. Make your selections 
now, while the Flowers are fresh and the line is unbroken. 

Never before have such beautiful Flowers been offered at 
prices so moderate. 


The Leading Millinery House, 

90 to 98 Tremont Street, Boston. 


Our Advertisers. 

Brown Brothers & Co. 

H. H. Carter & Co. 


E. Kakas & Sons. 

L. P. Hollander & Co. 

Miss M. F. Fisk. 

Frost & Adams Co. 

8 De Wolfe, Fiske & Co. 

9 Shreve, Crump & Low Co 
10 Boston & Albany Railroad. 
ii Isaac D. Allen. 

12 Winship Teachers' Agency. 

13 Copeland & Day. 

14 A. Stowell & Co. 

15 R. H. Stearns & Co. 

16 John H. Thurston. 

17 Springer Brothers. 
iS International Fur Company. 

19 Joel Goldthwait & Co. 

20 Shepard, Norwell & Co. 

21 Wadsworth, Howland & Co. 

22 Metropolitan Rubber Company. 

23 Wright & Ditson. 

24 F. H. Dennis. 

25 Soule Photograph Co. 

26 Horace Partridge & Co. 

27 Gilchrist & Co. 
2S Charles W. Hearn. 

29 Fiske Teachers' Agency. 

30 H. W. Downs Co. 
30 C. W. Hodgson & Co. 

30 N. C. Whitaker & Co. 

31 O. A. Jenkins & Co. 

32 George A. Plummer & Co. 

33 T. E. Moseley & Co. 

34 Samuel Ward Company. 

35 John W. Sanborn. 

36 S. G. Stevens. 

37 Whitney & Co. 

38 Stickney & Smith. 

39 John C. Haynes & Co. 

40 Hotel Bellevue. 

41 Frank A. Andrews. 

42 Mile. Helene. 

43 J. D. McKenney. 

44 C.H.&L. N. Veo. 

44 Mrs. Dr. J. E. Bishop. 

45 Miss V. A. Mills. 

46 Joseph Perkins. 

47 Lehrburger & Asher 



5, 7, 9 and 11 Winter Street, Boston. 


E solicit your patronage in all departments of our Dry Goods Establishment, promising 
you prompt and efficient service. 

Members of the Faculty and Students of Wellesley College 
will, on presentation of certified cards, be allowed a dis- 
count of ten per cent on goods purchased. 


Cravenettes, and 

Traveling Wraps. 

Leading Styles. 
Exclusive Designs. 
Popular Price. 


Ten per cent discount to Wellesley 
College Students. 


49 Summer Street, Boston. 


Largest School of Elocution and Oratory in 


Has a thorough and systematic course of study, including 
a complete system of Physical Training and Voice Culture, 
Natural Rendering, and the principles of the Philosophy of 
Expression. Scientific and practical work in every department. 
Chartered by the State. 

Address for Illustrated Catalogue, 

Cor. Tremont and Berkeley Streets, Boston, Mass. 

250 Varieties and Styles 


Writing. . . 
Papers j* 

Sample Box of 36 varieties sent postpaid for Fifty Cents. 

Samuel Ward Company, 

49=51 Franklin Street, Boston. 



Operative Dentistry a Specialty. 
Crowns, etc. 

B. U. «"• D. Q. S. 

Blake's Underwear and Dry Goods Store. 

NOT the largest store in town, it is true, but I carry a general line of Dry Fancy Goods and Smallwares, 
and am T>ound to give good value for money received. Ladies' Cotton Underwear a specialty, 
manufactured by myself; and as to value, well, ask anyone who has worn it and see what they say. 
When a customer returns for more goods of the same kind you know they feel satisfied. That's the 
way they do here on underwear, — in fact on goods of all kinds. 

This is the place where you can get your Blotting Paper free. 
Ten per cent discount to Students and Teachers of Wellesley. 

F. C. BLAKE, Successor to R. H. Randall, 
15 West Central Street, Natick. 

The Wellesley Magazine. 

Vol. V. WELLESLEY, JANUARY 23, 1897. No. 4. 







The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors 
chosen from the Senior Class. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss G. M. Dennison, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, 
will be received by Miss Mary E. Haskell, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All alumnae news should be sent to Miss Helen M. Kelsey, Wellesley, Mass. 

Advertising business is conducted by Miss Edith May, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications should in all cases be sent to 
Miss Roberta H. Montgomery, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Terms, $1.75 per year; single copies, 25 cents. Payment should be made by money order. 


The cause of higher education needs at the present day no champion in 
America. The Philistine of prejudice which at other times and places has 
defied the forces of culture and enlightenment here lies prostrate, and it 
would be a sheer waste of the five smooth stones out of the brook were any 
enthusiastic young David to undertake his further discomfiture. But while 
colleges and universities are increasing with marvelous rapidity in size and 
number, in wealth and influence, and while the chorus of gratulation and 
applause grows louder and more unanimous, it may be well occasionally to 
step aside for a moment and endeavor to examine critically and impartially 
what are the actual results brought about by this vast and elaborate edu- 
cational machinery that has been set in motion. It is desirable that we 
should know, not merely whether these results are on the whole good, but 


whether they seem to be the very best possible, in order that if there be any 
cause for dissatisfaction we may come to learn what are the defects in the 
system, and how such defects may be corrected. 

Now, if we ask what have the colleges done for the intellectual life of 
the country, we meet with facts that in one aspect are thoroughly satisfac- 
tory. The higher institutions of learning undeniably have been raising the 
standard of intelligence and knowledge in the community, and their moral 
influence in the great majority of cases has also been widely beneficial. The 
lives of millions throughout the country have been the better worth living 
because of the increased usefulness of men and women who have had the 
advantages of a collegiate training. If we realize all that this simple state- 
ment means, we must frankly admit that there is just and rational ground for 
pride and satisfaction. 

But is there not another side of the shield that we cannot wisely ignore ? 
I would venture to point out that if in examining the product of our colleges 
and universities we do not content ourselves with what is on the whole passa- 
bly good, but ask for evidence of ability of a really high grade, we are apt 
to meet w r ith disappointment. In watching the work done by American 
college graduates, lam continually impressed by an all-pervading mediocrity 
of attainments. It seldom falls very low, it never rises very high. I have 
used the phrase "educational machinery," and the words seem to me to have 
a somewhat ill-omened appropriateness. The college graduate too often 
bears the signs of being a machine-made article : — not by any means a badly- 
made article, rather one that is extremely useful for many purposes. He is, 
moreover, always bound to come up to a certain standard, for the college, 
like any other well-regulated factory, will refuse to stamp with its trade- 
mark and put upon the market the goods that have serious flaws. But we 
look in vain for the traces of originality, the stamp of a master mind, the 
cachet that denotes the genuine work of art. The ordinary college student 
during his four years' course gains much ; he has his crudity toned down, 
his roughnesses smoothed away ; he takes on a certain intellectual polish. If 
he possesses abilities of about the average amount, the contact with other 
minds is on the whole beneficial, and he gains in knowledge and in power. 
But if at the outset he is endowed with some germ of originality in character 
or of intellectual talent greater than that of most men, if he be one of those 


"fortuitous variations " which nature now and then sends, are not the in- 
fluences of his college life as likely to stifle as to develop the possibility of 
gi'eatness? In a word, with our best endeavors to level up, do we not per- 
haps bring about also a deplorable leveling down? 

Now this is a question concerning which sex distinctions do not count. 
If there is any force in the line of criticism which I have indicated, it applies 
fully as much to Harvard or Cornell as to Bryn Mawr or Wellesley. But the 
extraordinarily sudden emergence and rapid development of institutions for 
the higher education of women in the last quarter of a century provide an 
effective, if somewhat rough and ready, test of the facts on which such criti- 
cism is based. Considering the extremely limited opportunities for intel- 
lectual development that the last generation of women possessed, and how 
Avidespread now are the privileges of a collegiate training, we might not un- 
reasonably expect that we should find a marked improvement in the quality, 
as well as an increase in the quantity, of the work done by women at the 
present day. But in so far as the production of really great work is con- 
cerned, no such advance can be claimed. Our women graduates include 
many industrious and useful laborers in the educational field, many con- 
scientious and enlightened philanthropists, the writers of graceful verse, of 
readable essays, and of short stories that satisfy the expectation of the 
average magazine reader. But to convince ourselves that the achievement 
of the college woman, with a few exceptions, has not risen above a tolerable 
mediocrity, we have only to contrast with it the intellectual "output" of 
women in the period preceding the admission of our sex to the advantages 
of higher education. What names have we to match with those of Margaret 
Fuller and Mrs. Stowe, of George Eliot and George Sand, of Harriet 
Martineau and Mrs. Browning? And of our women contemporaries whose 
names are the least unworthy to be classed with these, how very few indeed 
are a part of the college product ! Does not the suspicion inevitably arise 
that our boasted college training has a tendency to check originality and 
spontaneity, and to reduce the expression of vigorous personality to the dead 
level of the monotonous and commonplace ? 

Moreover, this tendency toward the production of a respectable but 
somewhat tame mediocrity appears not only in regard to the intellectual 
activity that is called out, but to some extent in the kind of character that 


the college lite produces. The individual is apt to lose something of his in- 
dividuality. If they are mere excrescences that are lost, the meaningless 
eccentricities or youthful conceits that a wholesome contact with his fellows 
rubs off, then there is actual gain. But sometimes the change affects what 
is really essential to a healthy personality. The life of the student is 
absorbed in the life of the mass ; he breathes a special mental atmosphere ; he 
learns to think in a given way, to act in a given way. The result is con- 
formity to a type. We see the Harvard type, the Princeton type, the 
Wellesley type. All excellent, no doubt ; many a man and woman is dis- 
dinctly improved by being brought up through the imperceptible influences 
of the college environment to a level with the college standard of conduct 
and character. Only, once more, there is apt to be some danger of loss of 
individuality, of that which makes each of us different from his fellows. 
Nature makes no two leaves in the forest alike ; it is we, clumsily striving 
to perfect her creation, who are too careful of the type, too careless of the 
single life. If there be any substantial ground for even a slight feeling of 
dissatisfaction with our college product, we are impelled to ask where the 
fault lies, and how we can work for its correction. The subject is a difficult 
one, and I only venture to offer a few suggestions, less from any conviction 
of their being sufficient than from the hope that some of my readers may find 
them useful points of departure from which to think out for themselves a 
more satisfactory solution of the problem. 

I believe that with our present methods of teaching in colleges there is 
too much wholesale work attempted. Something no doubt depends upon 
the stage of their scholastic course which the students have reached ; much 
depends on the character of the subject taught. But, speaking broadly, I 
believe that far more satisfactory results would be reached if the students were 
taught in small groups instead of large classes. In a large class the material 
before the teacher is necessarily of different grades : either he must speak 
" over the heads" of those who are comparatively slow at comprehension, or 
he must say the things that are obvious and trite to the best minds under his 
charge, thus taking the edge off their intellectual appetite, and, perhaps, in- 
ducing that spirit of self-complacency — the most fatal blight that can fall on 
any of us — arising from the consciousness that no special effort is needed in 
order to apprehend what is being presented. I think it must be admitted 


that the English Universities, in spite of their extreme conservatism, and the 
antiquated and cumbrous character of their system, yet turn out a product 
in men of distinguished ability that bears a higher proportion to the total 
mental ability of their country, than does the product of American colleges 
and universities to the ability of this nation. The leaders of thought, of lit- 
erature, and of statesmanship are in Great Britain almost always university 
men ; but what is the rule there is the exception on this side of the Atlantic. 
Something, no doubt, must be allowed for differences in social conditions 
and in secondary education ; hut I think that to some extent the result is 
due to the greater importance attached to individual training, the instruction 
being mainly carried on by tutors who read with pupils singly or in small 

Again, is there not in our system of higher education too little recog- 
nition of the essential differences in aim and in possibilities of attainment 
between the ordinary young man or woman with moderate mental powers, 
who wants a good education and the intellectual and social advantages of 
college life, but who has no special gift for scholarship in its higher sense, and 
the student of more marked ability and higher ambition? Both classes have 
a claim on the college, but they have not the same goal in view, and they 
need different kinds of discipline and stimulus. By accepting the elective 
system most colleges admit the right of the student to choose his own line 
of development ; but they do not, perhaps, sufficiently recognize his right to 
say how far he means to go, and to have the nature of his college course 
determined thereby. 

But the individual teacher, as well as the system, must accept the re- 
sponsibility for any defect in the college product, and perhaps we may 
admit that there is too great a tendency on the part of instructors to look with 
favor upon the students who are the most docile and receptive. The more 
earnest we are, the more do we try to impress ourselves upon those under 
our charge. We want them to see truths as we see them, to be in sympathy 
with our appreciations, to do their work in our way. But docility is not a 
cardinal virtue for the student, however much his possession of it may 
lighten the task of his teacher. It is easier to shape a piece of putty than 
to train a plant; but the plant is alive and will grow, while the putty is but 
dead stuff. There is brought to my mind an interesting article, by Francis 


Galton, on the wild cattle of South Africa. These cattle are so gregarious 
that ordinarily none of them will separate himself from the herd even for a 
single minute, and if accidentally separated an ox will sutler agonies of dread 
till he can regain his fellows. This peculiarity is a great convenience to the 
herdsmen, but it makes it very difficult to find an animal with sufficient self- 
reliance to be placed at the head of a team. Hence, the men who break them 
into harness are constantly on the lookout for such cattle as graze ever so 
little apart from, or move ever so little ahead of, the rest of the herd ; these 
are at once secured and trained to be " fore oxen," for they are the naturally 
born leaders. Has not this difference between the herdsman, well contented 
with his close-packed and orderly drove, and the trainer, ever on the alert 
for the signs of independence and power of initiative, its analogy within the 
sphere of the teacher's activity ? 

But, after all, the highest court of appeal to which we can carry the 
cause of the development of individuality, is constituted by the individual 
himself. Only as each of us is animated by the courage of a legitimate self- 
assertion and the strength of a dominating purpose, can the disintegrating 
forces, not alone of college life, but of all common life, be withstood. Know 
thyself! The old Greek maxim is of eternal worth, just because only as we 
know ourselves can we truly know anything else in the universe. Only as 
in the light of that knowledge we realize ourselves, can we stand in a right 
relation to our fellows. But it is not by the pai*tial and often pitiful re- 
sults of our efforts at introspective self-anal j^sis that vital self-knowledge 
comes, but rather by the endeavor to keep steadily before us our own 
ideal of attainment and character. Nor is such an ideal a mere occasional 
will-o'-the-wisp glimmering fitfully through the mist and darkness, but a 
clear and growing light, as of the coming dawn, in which our goal shines out 
even more plainly, and each step of our path becomes more distinct. I be- 
lieve that one reason why so much of our work fails to reach a high pitch of 
excellence is that we are in too great haste to reach visible and obvious 
results. We want to convince the world — our own little world, at all events 
— that we have the ability to do something. Perhaps we want still more to 
convince ourselves of it. So we write something for publication, or we paint 
a picture, or we start our " original research," not that these things are 
needed, or that we are ready to do them, but because we want I'esults to 


show. I do not deprecate ambition, I believe we ought to have more of it, 
but we need to let patience have her perfect work. We want courage, 
vigor, and self-confidence ; but we want, too, the stern discipline of self- 
restraint, and such a high conception of our calling as shall make us loth to 
give out anything but the very best of which we are capable. 

The high aim set before ourselves, and the firm determination to do and 
to be the best that is possible, need not imply any failure to recognize our 
own limitations. One cannot turn one's self into a genius by cultivating 
eccentricities, or by attempting with small powers the accomplishment of 
great tasks. The ass that dressed himself in the lion's skin, only proved that 
he was a very great ass. But, though most of us must pass our lives in 
doing little things, we need never consent to doing little things badly. If 
culture is to have any meaning for us, surely it must include the acquiring 
of a wholesome abhorrence of all slovenliness in thought and in work. It is 
the true function of culture " unsvon Halben zu Entwohnen." What a solemn 
dignity is given to the very limitations of life by the Preacher's injunction, 
" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there is no 
work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou 

In conclusion, I would recall the inspiring words of New England's 
great thinker and teacher : " Insist on yourself, never imitate. That which 
each man can do best none but his Maker can teach him." " Do that which 
is assigned thee, and thou canst not hope too much or dare to much." 

E. Ritchie. 


There was mischief in the air. The streets had not been deserted for 
nothing that gay winter afternoon. The mysterious noises from various 
woodsheds and barns were not evidences of merely commonplace industry. 

"Yes; I know them boys is up to somethin'," Mrs. Allen observed 
across her frozen clothes to a bemufiied neighbor. "And I do' know as I 
care. Sam Waine alius was an old skinflint ; but I can't say I'd have 
thought he'd a gone off and done a thing like this, with not a word to 
a soul." 


" Serves him right if they do play a trick on him," Miss Downs mum- 
bled back through a clothespin. " Gittin' married 'thout lettin' anybody 
.so much as know he was waitin' on anybody ! She must be a queer crittur 
to have him, anyway." 

"I sh'd think so, — are your clothes all friz on? It's hard enough to 
get along with a man under any conditions, an' when he's lived by himself 
as long as Sam Waine has, a-savin', and a-skinnin', and a-cheatin' the very 
contribution box ! I'm glad it ain't one of our Sandham girls anyhow." 

Poor Sam Waine. It was a daring thing to brave Sandham " society" 
as he had done, inexperienced man that he was. For years he had been the 
town miser, a subject for sewing circle gossip and an object for small boys' 
jokes. His gloomy square house on the outskirts of the town was not far 
enough away to close its doors completely against prying eyes and wagging 
tongues. Each little economy, each new piece of "meanness," was discussed 
and condemned. The whys and wherefores of the man's action were harder 
to get at, but they were not necessary factors for these village judges. So 
year by year he had grown more nearly into what they thought him to be; 
little by little his heart had hardened and his soul narrowed beneath the 
scorn of his neighbors and the taunts of the boys. His face had become 
old and wrinkled. His eyes seemed to contract and grow searchingly 
brighter as his back became more and more bent. 

But now he was married. He had driven her from the station straight 
up the main street of the town that morning, leaving behind at the windows 
a double row of scandalized faces and staring eyes. The news spread 
rapidly. She was a New Bristol girl, — a school-teacher, it was said. Be- 
tween pity for her, wonder and anger at Sam, who had so hoodwinked them, 
the village gossips had a good time that day. 

And the boys — the men of smaller growth — heard their mothers talk, 
and put their heads together. 

It was after evening meeting that the procession started, — a formidable 
array of threatening, black-draped figures, hooded and masked. They car- 
ried transparencies such as nothing but a Presidential torchlight campaign 
had ever called forth in Sandham before ; skulls and crossbones, dear to the 
boyish heart, were conspicuous everywhere. To the music of tin pans, and 
horns, and shrill, derisive young voices, they paraded the length of the village 


street, calling a halt only beneath the two tall, gaunt poplars that stood 
before Sam Waine's door. The front of the house, seen from the street, 
was quite dark. 

" What you goin' to do now, fellers?" came a hoarse whisper from the 
back ranks. 

" O, let's sing that verse, 

• ' When I was a bachelor I lived by myself, 

And all the bread 'n cheese I got I put upon a shelf.' 

Something like that, to the tune of ' John's Brown's Body.' Now, fellers, 
blow, and pound, and sing ! " 

And they went at it again with variations which only the fiendish 
activity of a boy's brain could invent. All was still, and the boys became 
wilder and wilder, expecting a snarling voice and bitter words, or perhaps 
even more material exhortations to quiet. 

But suddenly, as a handful of pebbles rattled against it, the great front 
door was quickly opened, and a woman stood before the throng of boys, hold- 
ing above her head a lamp whose light threw her into sharp relief against 
the dimness of the hall behind. Instantly there was perfect quiet. 

"You sneak ! Don't you run ! Stand your ground ! " Will Lamson 
commanded in a threatening whisper as some one tried to steal away. So, as 
Will's word was likely to be law, the whole group stayed. 

" It was jolly of you, boys, to come the first night I was in my new 
home," a voice, neither snarling nor bitter, was saying, " and I'm sorry I 
can't receive my serenaders more sumptuously. But you must come in any- 
way, and overlook deficiencies. Please come just as you are." 

"I don't know how it was," Will Lamson said in telling the story after- 
ward, "I guess nobody had wits enough about him to think of not going. 
So in we went, masks, and spook drapery, and all. She kind of laughed 
when we went past. And then there was Sam back of her, smiling away. 
He led us into a big, square room, with a table in the middle. There was 
mince pie, and apple pie, and doughnuts, and hot coffee, and I don't know 
what else. You just wouldn't have known Sam Waine. ' Help yourself, 
boys,' he says. ' You better take off your masks, so't you can eat better.' 
At first we wouldn't ; but finally we did, 'cause things kept getting more 


thawed out and warmer like every minute. And Sam, — he told stories and 
laughed, and smoothed the wrinkles out of his face. She sat over opposite 
to him, and laughed, too, in the nicest, jolliest kind of a way. 

" Finally, when it was getting pretty late, I had sense enough to get up 
to go, and I knew I'd got to say something. All the fellows followed me to 
the door, and then I turned round, kind of ashamed like, — only she just 
wouldn't let you feel that way. 

" Well, Mrs. Waine," I said, "you've treated us white, and we know 
it ; and, — and you'll see we do." 

" And we fellows have stood by her ever since, and she's stood by us. 
Sam's house sort of belongs to the gang, and we go there all the time, when- 
ever we want to. And Sam ! well, he's a different man, younger, and all 
made over, like. It's just that one woman that's done it all, too. She's a 
brick. And my opinion about women is solid in their favor since that 
night." P. K. 


There is a deal of wasted blue 

In the smile of the summer sky, 
And frequently the white clouds kiss 

As thety saunter boldly by. 

And swift caresses are the life 

Of the winning waves of the sea: 
With precedent so natural, 

Will my lady turn from me ? 

Florence Annette Wing, '92. 


We usually think of Life Guards as a body of brave, perhaps rashly 
courageous men, ready at a word from their commander to face privations, 
danger, and death for the protection of their country or their sovereign. 
Dashing actions, fine physical appearance, and contempt for caution, all seem 
to belong to those whom we call Life Guards. Perhaps we also think of the 
far less showy, but even more courageous Coast Guards, who pass their solitary 
lives watching the sea coasts of many countries, snatching living souls from 
death at the hands of angry nature, not man. 


In whatever direction our thoughts turn, it seems necessary to associate 
bravery in the face of physical danger with the name Life Guards. Yet if we 
look beneath the surface we find guards as wonderful in many ways, sacrificing 
self, such as it is, as freely as do those guards more commonly known to us. 

Our bodies are vast, complex wholes, colonies of many units, each of 
which has a more or less clearly defined part to play in the economy of the 
whole. Each cell or unit is a living thing, and must be supplied with all 
things necessary to support life. Of these, food and oxygen are chiefly in 
demand. Wonderful beyond conception, if we pause to think, is the work 
of the brain and other parts of the nervous system ; of but slightly less 
significance is the work of the muscles, by which we move. But all these 
parts must be nourished, and must have the waste products of their activity 
removed, that the necessary changes may more freely take place. They are 
like some almost inconceivably delicate living machine that you can imagine. 
Constant fuel must be supplied, to be transformed by the chemical action of 
the living cell protoplasm into itself. On demand this material is used up, 
work is done, the body is moved, a thought comes from the brain, and some 
of the store is destroyed, used by this manifestation of life. Also just as from 
an engine there is waste in the form of ashes, so in the muscle cell or nerve 
cell there is waste after activity ; certain chemical substances are formed that 
must be removed, lest they injure these delicate living structures, and hinder 
or even forbid their free action. 

Here at once arises the question, How does this take place? We know 
that in all machines there must be some one to look out for the removal of 
ashes if coal is used, and various other waste materials under different 
conditions. How does this take place with such delicate structures as these 
minute protoplasmic cells ? Their very smallness and delicate nature renders 
it necessary to remove all such material immediately, and also to supply food 
for repair of waste incurred by activity. The great agent for all this work is 
the blood. Of the significance of this liquid, always present in our bodies, 
and of the wonderful things that some minute elements in it are doing for us 
all the time, we either are quite unaware, or else in the routine and rush of 
daily life we never pause to think. 

Blood is known to us as a fluid usually inclosed in tubes. If these are 
injured it comes forth with the characteristic familiar color. If a small drop 


of blood be examined under a microscope, however, it no longer appears 
homogeneous, but as a colorless liquid in which float many solid particles. 
Two kinds of these elements are present. Of the one, the pale red or orange 
discs which en masse make blood red, we will speak but briefly. These con- 
tain a complex chemical substance having a remarkable affinity for oxygen. 
During the passage of the blood through the lung this substance eagerly 
seizes on the oxygen, the corpuscles becoming saturated with the gas. Then 
during the course of circulation through the body these little oxygen-laden 
bodies come in contact with other tissues needing oxygen. They then yield 
up their load, and the tissue cells store it away in their protoplasm for future 
use. This we find to be the function of these elements of the blood, to carry 
the life-giving oxygen of the air to the tissues that are far away from the 
outside, buried deep, yet needing this essential substance. The very single- 
ness of their aim makes them stand out prominently in this large colony of 
workers known to us as the body. 

But these are not the only elements of the blood. Scattered quite 
sparsely among the red cells are the leucocytes, or white corpuscles, only 
about one to seven hundred red ones. In appearance they are quite different 
from their brethren, — somewhat granular, more or less spherical masses of 
protoplasm, lacking color. If we keep the blood warm and carefully watch 
these minute particles of living matter, we see them begin to grow irregular 
in shape, gradually pushing out some slender projections. By means of 
this streaming movement they crawl about from place to place. It seems 
almost weird to know that these minute particles in our blood can move 
about like independent creatures, making a veritable living army within our 
veins ; an army in more ways than one, as we shall see in a moment. 

For many years this power of moving about has been known to belong 
to these cells, but of late years especial interest has been directed to them 
by the researches of a Russian naturalist and pathologist, Metchnikoff by 
name. He found that these cells not only pass through the walls of the 
blood vessel into outside tissues, but also take up and devour any foreign 
substances, nutritious or otherwise, with which they come in contact. If it 
is edible, they digest it. If it is not capable of such disposition, they 
simply succeed in removing the material from contact with the tissues. 
This process is one of true cellular digestion and excretion, the substances 


formed by the activity of these cells being normally discharged into the 
blood and lymph. They are consequently shown to have a very important 
part in the work of absorption. 

MetchnikofPs work extended further than this, however. In a classic 
series of most careful experiments he found the following facts : A very 
minute water animal is infected by a disease caused by the growth of a 
fungus inside the body. The spores of this fungus enter the body with 
the food, and being sharp-pointed they readily push through the walls of 
the digestive tract in this minute creature. As soon as this takes place 
these foreign bodies are surrounded by the cells corresponding to our white 
corpuscles, engulfed, and ultimately devoured. By this means the invaders 
are removed, and the life of the animal saved if the cells can succeed in 
disposing of all the spores. If, however, the increase of the enemy is too 
great the animal dies. If saved, it is by means of these agents of defense. 
A tine way of making the best of everything, to turn your enemies to 
good account by living on them, provided they are not more than can be 
eaten practically at one time ! 

Following these observations by a series of beautiful experiments, 
Metchnikoff establishes the fact that the microbes of infectious diseases are 
in a similar way devoured and destroyed by the white corpuscles in the 
living blood vessels of animals. Phagocytosis was thus established, — a means 
of protection for the animal body, in which the white corpuscles, small 
and unimportant as they seem, are of paramount significance in both disease 
and health. 

From this point it is but a step to a subject which just now is more 
or less distinctly before the mind of all of us; i. e., Bacteriology. The 
assignment of the cause of certain diseases to the presence in the body of 
minute plant organisms, known familiarly to us as bacteria or microbes, 
opened a new field of work. The veil that had enshrouded disease in some 
of its worst and most evasive forms was torn away by this brilliant discov- 
ery, due largely to the careful work of Pasteur, only recently dead. He 
was the great founder of the Germ Theory of Disease. By this discovery 
the whole field of antiseptic surgery was thrown open. The horrors of the 
hospitals, of war, of surgery, were largely destroyed ; the unfortunate vic- 
tims of accidents and disease were saved from weeks of painful, wasting 


suffering. The isolation of the germs of cholera, erysipelas, tuberculosis and 
hydrophobia, are but a few of the successes in this field, and the new treat- 
ments resulting from this knowledge have benefited the human race to 
an almost inconceivable degree. None of the triumphs of science during 
this century, many as they are, can exceed this one in wideness of influence 
over all mankind. 

Having found out the cause of a disease, and knowing that disease can 
be prevented, it is but a step to the cause of prevention. How does an 
animal protect itself against the attacks of these hosts of minute organisms 
that are forever lying in wait in food, in drink, in the very air that we 
breathe? What makes an animal immune, as we call it? We must remember 
that there are two distinct conditions here. Some lower animals never can 
take certain diseases to which, perhaps, man is liable. So man is immune to 
some animal diseases, as Texas fever, hay cholera. We call this Natural 
Immunity. Again, it is well known that we can become immune. One 
attack of measles, chicken pox, or scarlet fever usually serves us as a protec- 
tion against a second. There are exceptions, but this is generally true. 
We may call this Direct Acquired Immunity ; direct, because caused by the 
disease itself; and acquired, because obtained during life. A second form of 
acquired immunity is well known to us in Vaccination. Here, by having 
one disease, cowpox, we acquire protection against another, smallpox, at 
least for a certain number of 3 r ears, usually seven, though sometimes even 
for life, and again only for a short time. This is Indirect Acquired Im- 
munity. In both cases there must be either an attack of the same disease 
or of another to render the system refractive, while in Natural Immunity, for 
some reason the system is always proof against attack. In the first case a 
process of training, education of what we shall see later, must take place. 

No subject has been the center of fiercer strife than this one. For years 
a battle royal has been waged by the rival upholders of two schools, both of 
which try to explain the phenomena of Immunity. The Humoral Theory is 
headed by Pasteur and his school. This says that the liquid part of the 
blood possesses the power of destroying hostile germs through means of 
some chemical substances, — antitoxines. The second theory takes us to our 
old friends, the white corpuscles. By means of phagocytosis, this school 
believes that the body protects itself against invasion by these foes. The 


leucocytes destroy, — eat the bacteria bodily as fast as they enter the system. 
If the germs increase in number, more leucocytes appear to wage warfare, 
and on the success of the fight depends the health or even the life of the 

The antitoxine supporters have heaped ridicule upon this theory of 
Metchnikoff 's, fairly laughing it to scorn. It is capable of very picturesque 
presentation, and to a quick imagination would offer a very vivid picture of 
scientific truth. The devotion of leucocytes in sacrificing themselves for the 
welfare of the body can be enlarged upon until they seem more like con- 
scious entities than minute parts of our blood. Yet this is but one side of 
the question. The facts exist despite all ridicule. Both views, no doubt, 
can be supported well by facts, conflicting as they seem, and in time they 
may be completely harmonized. It is but another instance of seeing one 
side of the shield too strongly and forgetting the existence of the other side. 
Antitoxic material is made and is present in the blood, but in many animals 
phagocytosis is the main defense. Even if the microbes are killed by the 
liquids of the blood, their bodies must be disposed of by the leucocytes : 
they must, in all sincerity, feed on their enemies. It is a very suggestive 
thought that they may, by their cellular digestion, produce the materials 
which make the blood liquid antitoxic, — germ killing. If this is true, how 
strongly does the case show poetic justice : the bodies of the dead microbes 
serve as material for makino- a substance to kill their successors. 

No chapter in the history of disease is more romantic than this one of 
Phagocytosis. It renders complete the explanation of many phenomena of 
disease, and at the same time gives to these small, minute structures of the 
body known for years to exist for some obscure purpose, a very important 
and definite duty, corresponding to their omnipresence and larger numbers. 

Not only in disease, but also in health, are these cells at work. They 
are ever present, ever watchful, ever devouring germs and waste matter of 
all kinds, carrying it all away from contact with the other tissue cells. The 
very defense from disease depends, to a certain extent, on the education of 
these cells. Vaccination, immunity of all kinds, means the acquiring of the 
means of defense against the enemy, and we have seen the part they play in 
this matter. Is there any more triumphant proof of the value of the next 
to nothing than is given in this story? These minute structures, present in 


our bodies by the thousand, the very existence of which is unknown to 
many of us, are yet all important to our welfare. Thei'e is no tale of fiction 
more tragic than this of the many who daily lay down their lives for the 
safety of the one. Obscure, unseen, unknown, they carry on their work 
like the solitary coastguard, and w r e, in the press and rush of our lives, often 
fail even to cast a thought on this mighty, silent multitude. 

Edith J. Claypole. 

(After reading " Olive Schreiner.") 

A child sat weeping by the side of a stream. The wind blew, the sun 
shone, the birds sang; the child wept on. By and by the wind died away, 
the sun sank behind the hills, and the birds chirped softly and sleepily from 
their nests, but the child still wept. In the soft light left by the sun to 
comfort men for the glare of the day, one came walking toward the child. 
He touched her on the shoulder and said, — 

" Why do you weep ? " 

And she said: "Because I have lost my book. It told me the way to 
the Land of Heroic Deeds. But I have lost it, and I, too, would be a hero." 

He smiled wistfully upon her and said, — 

" Wait for the great Hero. He will show you the path to Hero Land." 

So she waited. The Valley of Ignoble Deeds lay about her. Before 
was the mountain, stern, grim, and inaccessible. Yet as she sat waiting she 
saw the sun rest lovingly upon its summit, and one rare day she saw a 
glimpse of something bright, a golden gate, perchance, at the very top. 
But it w T as a mere glimpse; perhaps no gate at all, — only the last rays of 
the sun flashing upon the mountain. 

And she w r aited on. As she sat there a stranger passed one day, and 
seeing her, drew near, and said, — 

" Are you ready?" 

And she said, " Yes. When does he come?" 

"To-morrow, with a large train. Join him at once, for he can wait for 
no one, and the gate will shut behind him." 

" What gate?" she asked ; but he was gone. 


And still she waited, but a great joy was born in her heart, for to- 
morrow she would learn the path to the Land of Heroic Deeds. 

The Hero came. He passed through the very heart of the Valley of 
Ignoble Deeds, and the people scoffed at him and his train. But the maiden 
(for she was no longer a child) drew near and said, — 

"O sir;" and then she said no more, for he looked upon her and she 
saw his face. 

He pointed to the mountain and passed on. And she stepped back into 
the very lowest rank of his followers and walked with them. They reached 
the stream which separated the valley from the foot of the mountain, and 
began to cross. She, too, would follow them, but a little wail at her side 
stopped her. She looked down. A child was walking near her, and the 
stream was too deep for him. 

" I cannot stop," she said ; " I must follow the Hero. Ask some other 
to aid you." 

But they two were alone, for the Hero and his companions had already 
crossed. She started to follow quickly, but the child clung fast to her. 
She looked at him in anguish and said : " Do you not see the Hero is disap- 
pearing? I cannot stop. I cannot find my way alone. Let me go ! " 

But still the child clung with little, little hands to her gown ; and she looked 
at him sadly and said : " Come, little one ; we will go together. Perchance 
we can overtake the Hero by and by." 

She lifted the child in her arms and tried to cany him through the 
stream. The waters dashed against her and pulled her down, and she was 
glad to go back. She sought for stones, and laid them down in the w T ater, 
that the child might walk beside her. They were rough and cruel, and tore 
her hands so that the blood dropped upon them. And the child laughed in 
glee as the warm, red drops fell down. The water tore them from their 
places, and she put them back. Darkness came upon them ere they crossed. 
At last they stood upon the other side, beyond the limit of the valley, and 
the mountain rose before them, stern, grim, and inaccessible* And the Hero 
was gone. 

She cried out in despair ; then looked at the child, and was silent. A 
faint ray of light streamed down the mountain side. She thought it was the 
path the Hero took, and began the ascent. Quickly and strongly she made 


her way up, eager to reach the train before the gate was shut. A cry ar- 
rested her footsteps. She looked back. The child had tried to follow her 
and had fallen, because no hand reached out to help. She turned quickly to 
the mountain again. 

"I cannot stop," she said. Brambles tangled her feet, rocks rolled 
down upon her, and her hands were torn and bleeding from grasping nettles 
to assist her in the ascent. Sadly she turned back, but the child smiled 
through his tears at her. She wiped them away and said, — 

" I will not leave you again, little one. Come, let us go together." 

And they climbed together. The path of light was gone, and though 
the sun shone far above them, the mountain side was dark. The child was 
hungry, and cried. She found some berries and gave them to him to eat. 
The child was thirsty, and she sought far and wide for water. But the path 
was lost. The child was tired, and she cradled him in her arms and sang 
him to sleep. Her throat was parched and dry, and the rock was her only 
resting place. And the child was merry and ran swiftly before her, and she 
followed him ; but her limbs were weary, and blood marked her footsteps. 

Still they climbed upward, and the child was a lad. Now he wandered 
from the path seeking to kill some wild beast, and he chid her sharply when 
she sought him and brought him back. It was long since she had seen the 
Hero, and she wondered if it were not all a dream. She thought her life 
had been spent on the cold, dark mountain side. Only in her dreams she 
saw the Land of Heroic Deeds. 

Still she climbed upward with the lad. Now he went before her, and 
she climbed alone over the cruel rocks. She was very weary, but he was 
young and strong. The mists lay below them, and they were near the top. 

At last they stood before a golden gate, and she remembered. She saw 
again the vision of her childhood. She remembered the Hero and the Land 
of Heroic Deeds, and she longed with an unutterable longing to pass beyond 
the gate. As the two stood there, one came behind the gate and looked 
through it at them and they at him. 

" May we come in?" she asked. 

" Only one," he said ; " which is the fittest? Choose." 

And she looked down at herself. The white hair hung unkempt beside 
her face. Her garments were ragged, her hands stained and bleeding, her 


feet cut and torn. She looked at him who was the child, a rare, radiant be- 
ing, and she hung her head. A great and bitter cry rose in her heart, but 
she was silent. 

" Let him go in," she said, and kissed him. " He is the fittest." 

She turned away and he went in. The gate was shut, and she was alone. 
But a smile was on her face. And one came to her and took her by the 
hand and led her to another gate, an iron one. 

And she said, " Where does this lead?" 

And he said, " You will not know now, but hereafter the Hero himself 
will tell you." 

And she was content. But I knew. It was the Land of This World's 

Uncrowned Heroes. 

Margaret B. Merrill. 


A sudden streak of red caught my eye from a bare rhododendron bush. 
It was Mr. White-winged Grosbeak. The red of his coat had a downy, 
blotched look, like the unfinished crimson of a young cardinal bird. So 
soft-footed was he that the branch he had quitted was not even shaking. 
Silent as fire- lit smoke he slid from twig to twig, with long pauses in be- 
tween, as if the wind had fallen. Madame, in dress of sleek gray brown, 
was drinking from a rainpool under the neighboring fir trees, and in the 
branches above a company of friends were breakfasting. Their voices were 
the voices of the complacent and the fat ; a gentle chorus of low, waxy 
sounds, sweet as honey, but subdued and far off as if from across the meadow. 

There was a sense of mystery out this morning. Not a gold chestnut 
leaf that loosed itself from the twig but you heard the soft detachment, and 
the rustle of curled brown edges that made place for it on the ground. The 
gray sky looked moundy and motionless. There were not even shadows to 
give character to the world. It was as if you had caught one sleeping. 

Clipp ! clipp ! clipp ! harsh, like a hedge-trimmer's scissors, from the 
garden. A brown thrasher? And on that very heart-beat there he stood a 
fire-brown streak on the piazza roof. Brave evangelist bird ! with his ragged, 
russet long coat half moulted, his lean, worn body tense with nerve and 


vigor. For one fearless moment, noble head uplifted, he looked at me with 
his strange, spirit-hungry eyes. I thought I saw the prophet's script under 
his iron wing. Then, a streak of brown fire, and the growing dawn empty. 

The wind blows lazily, nonchalantly sweet, puffed from the mouth of 
some full-lipped wind goddess. From far off the chiding of frogs strikes on 
some inner sense of hearing. That wind again ! and with it the whole world 
of summer starlight ! 

M. E. Haskell, '97. 



A man knocked at a poet's door. 

" I am hungry and cold," he said ; " give me something." 

" I am very sorry for you," said the poet, " but I cannot do anything 
for you now. I am trying to find a rhyme for ' self.' Come again to- 
morrow 7 ." 

The man came. He looked thinner than before. 

" Here is a poem I wrote for you," the poet said. " I wept as I wrote 
it. Good-by, brother, and God help you." 

" God help my wife and child," said the man, as the door closed. 

Just then the wind blew the paper away, and he went home empty- 


The little yellow dog was dead ; he had been run over by a cart wheel. 
The pointer and the hound were sniffing at him from a distance. 

" I am sorry I dug up his bones," thought the hound to himself, but he 
said nothing. 

" 'Tis a pity we didn't let him go with us to the hunt yesterday," said 
the pointer, aloud. " But what would my lady greyhound have said?" 

" What, indeed?" answered the hound. " Or my lord mastiff?" 

" A sad life ! " whined Mistress Greyhound, when she heard of it. " He 
used to go around without a collar, and his mother was a butcher's dog. 
And such a death ! I shall not enjoy my bone for a week." 



Two madmen were talking together. 

" I am Napoleon," said one. " Everybody is afraid when I come." 
" I am Merlin," said the other. " I can turn that man into a fly." 
Just then their keeper came and led them off. 


A woman sat by the sea, and the laughing light in her eyes was as the 
sunlight upon its waves. 

"lam very happy," she said softly, " and there is nothing so beautiful 
as the sea. It will bring my love to me, I am sure." And it did. 

Again she sat by the sea, and a child was by her side. She was still 
young and beautiful, and her hair, as the salt breeze lifted it, looked golden 
against her black gown. But her gaze as it clung to the waves was despair- 
ing, and her lips parted passionately. Her head drooped, and the sound that 
came from her throat was sadder than the sobbing of the sea by the rocks. 

" The sea gave, and the sea hath taken away," she said. 


A poor wife's child died. The rich lady came to her. It was a cold 
day, and the children were shivering about the floor, their faces pinched and 
blue like the little dead child's. 

"It may be better so," said the lady, as she took the poor woman's 
band, and on her face there was a smile at her own wisdom and kindness. 

" Yes, it is better so," said the woman dully. Her eyes were vacant, 
and her hand lay loose in the other's. "There will be more left for the rest. 
Frank was the smallest eater, though." 

The lady dropped her hand, and giving her a piece of silver, left with- 
out further words. 

" The poor are beasts," she said to herself when she reached her home. 


A man looked always into a mirror. Those who went that way pointed 
at him and nodded silently to each other, then passed on. 

By and by he grew tired of the mirror. The light shone on it and hurt 
his eyes, so he turned away. 


And now everything seemed strange; things looked hard and cold. 
He turned to the right when he would have turned to the left. People 
laughed at him for it. 

" No one told me it was a mirror." thought the man. 


A man sat by the open fire. There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" he cried, and a younger man entered. The two had a 
cigar together. 

"You are a good fellow," said the first. "What is your name?" 
But the other had gone. 

The man smoked on and thought a bit until the door opened a little, 
letting in a draft of cold air, and a queer old man, closely muffled, entered. 

The smoker frowned, for he was out of spirits. ' ' Who is this ? " he said. 

The visitor seated himself. He stayed long. 

When at last he rose to go, the fire was out and the room had grown 

"You are poor company," said the man. " You are not like my first 

" I am kin to him," said the old man, showing his face. " Look." 

The features were the same as those of the young man, but withered 
and like a caricature. 

After he had gone, the man started from his armchair and looked into 
the mirror over the mantel. Then he dropped back into his chair, stared 
at the ashes on the hearth, and groaned. 

Isabel Fiske. 


Whenever the sky is a certain blue, 

Peculiar to skies at sea, 
My listless hands let the beads slip through 

That they tell on their rosary. 

I stretch my arms to the purpling hills, 

From the convent's garden-close; 
I bend my lips to the limpid rills 

Where the fringed reed grass grows. 


I call to the hills, I cry to the brook : 
" O hills that the sea behold! 

streams so sweet I had half mistook 
Your waters for waves of old ! " 

But hills loom silent and distance-dim, 

And brooks laugh mockingly, 
And convent arches, weathered and grim, 

Are frowning their frown on me. 

1 fold my face in my hood of gray, 
I bury my heart within; 

I kneel me down on the stones to pray 
For the world that is lost in sin. 

The Crucifix hangs over my head, 

The nuns pace two and two; 
In crypts below me the shriven dead 

Are waiting the judgment due. 

The church is the only truth, I know, 

And sea but a symbol of strife, — 
But, O for its measureless gleam and glow 

And the rush of its tidal life ! 

The long, sharp sound of grating keel, 
The rocks where the nets are dried, 

The arms that clasp and the breasts that feel, 
Nor laughter nor sob denied, — 

The swirl of the sweet winds over my head, 

The great wing'd gulls at play, — 
The new hope born when the dawn breaks red, 

And the toil of a rounded day ! 

Whenever the sky is a certain blue, 

Peculiar to skies at sea, 
My listless hands let the beads slip through, 

And I long for liberty. 


It is always amusing to run across a bit of English in a French book. 
It is usually ungrammatical, and invariably misspelled ; when it is a quota- 
tion, it is generally misquoted. The French seem to take a pride in not 
knowing English too well, in something the same way that people 
like to show unfamiliarity with coarse work and unpleasant places. 


But my little French dictionary's English "locutions" give me more 
pleasure than any of Dumas's quotations. Significantly, regrettably, the 
" locutions " are mainly sporting expressions. Their pronunciation is con- 
scientiously spelled out ; then the use follows, sometimes to one's enlighten- 
ment. "All right (aol-ra-itt) ; tout est bien, vous pouvez aller cle l'avant : 
all right. At home (att ome) : locution anglaise qui s'emploie substantive- 
ment, le at home. Broken down (bro-k'n-daown) ; (biise bas) ; se-dit 
d'une boitorie speciale aux chevaux de course." Delightful little Diction- 
naire complet illustre de Larousse, what a fondness I have for you ! for 
your ugly little cuts, your microscopic, unreadable maps, your encyclopedic 
information, and your little inserted bunch of red pages filled with delicious 
" locutions latines et etrangeres" ! 

M. N. S. 


The other evening we happened to be got together in a company of eighteen people, men 
and women of the best fashion here, in a garden in the town to walk; when one of the ladies 
bethought herself of asking, " Why should we not sup here ? " Immediately the cloth was laid 
by the side of a fountain under the trees, and a very elegant supper served; after which another 
said, " Come, let us sing," and directly began herself. From singing we insensibly fell to dan- 
cing and singing in a round, when somebody mentioned the violins, and a company of them 
was ordered. Minuets were begun in the open air, and then came country dances, which held 
till four o'clock next morning, at which hour the gayest lady there proposed that such as were 
weary should get into their coaches, and the rest should dance before them in the van; and in 
this manner we paraded through all the principal streets of the city and waked everybody in it. 
— Gray's Letters. To Mrs. Dorothy Gray, from Rheims, June 21, 1737. 

Mr. Jeremy Browne, reminded by the dimness of his page that 
evening was falling, leaned his head out of the window of his modest lodg- 
ing and remembered that it was spring. His last term at Cambridge was not 
so far behind that college habits had grown weak upon him ; so the evening 
smell was enough to bring Jeremy to his feet with the thought of a stroll in 
his mind. But a newer impulse prompted him, too. He bethought himself 
of the clothes he had brought from Paris, and had worn but once, half in 
pride, half in shame of his own foppishness, and he resolved to make him- 
self fine in them before taking his stroll through the streets of Rheims. 
Honest Jeremy tied and powdered his wig, shook his gay plush coat and 
satin waistcoat, and arrayed himself in them with no little complacency. 


The new French shoes lifted him a full inch further from the ground, and, 
greatly sustained in pride thereby, Jeremy drevv up his shoulders, and 
sallied forth upon the street with a veritable strut. 

His new elegance was rather disturbing to Mr. Browne's orderly way 
of thinking ; such a fluttering of mind as had been set up in Paris by the 
chatter in the cafes, the gay crowds in the streets, the singing at the opera, 
took possession of him again. He eyed furtively the few people he passed ; 
and once, when a great lordly coach rolled by him, he boldly smiled his 
admiration at an engaging lady who sat within. With such people he, 
Jeremy Browne, dressed as a man of fashion should be dressed, might fit- 
tingly hold converse. Graceful French phrases floated through his mind, 
elegantly turned sentences his tongue had never dared attempt sounded in 
his ears. But in the middle of a neat bit of repartee, a violent English 
"Confound you, sir!" interrupted, and Jeremy looked up to see that he 
had fairly run down a fellow-countryman in his musing. 

The stranger was a youthful dandy, far outshining Jeremy in magnifi- 
cence, and, remarking some signs of arrogance in him, our friend began a 
rather haughty apology. But in this, too, he was interrupted. " Upon my 
soul, 'tis Jeremy Browne," said the stranger, taking Jeremy's hand and 
shaking it heartily. 

" Mr. Sele ! " cried Jeremy, both astonished and gratified. 

"And how come you here, Jeremy?" asked Mr. Sele, taking Jeremy's 
arm in a friendly fashion. " I never had thought to see you leaving your 
cloister to make the grand tour." 

"Then I cannot explain it to you," said the little scholar, "save by 
telling you that my Uncle Gilbert, who, you remember, died last month, 
hath left me the wherewithal." 

Mr. Sele did not appear disposed to like his friend the less for the 
explanation. Though Jeremy's reputation for scholarly wit and graceful 
versifying had served at Cambridge to attach to him Mr. Sele and others of 
his fellow-collegians, they had rather scorned him as the penniless son of a 
penniless attorney. Naturally Mr. Sele turned to look at Jeremy for out- 
ward signs of his new prosperity. "Faith, Jeremy, you cut a fine figure 
indeed in this toggery. I'm proud to be seen in the company of such a 


Some ladies, by their appearance persons of distinction, attended by a 
single cavalier, passed at that moment, and Mr. Sele saluted them with great 
respect, gazing after them when they had passed. "Do I detain you, Mr. 
Sele?" asked Jeremy, marking the glance. 

"Why, no," answered Sele. "To be sure, some dozen or so of us are 
to meet in a garden of the town to-night, to idle away the time, but they 
will easily do without me till I come. And hold, Jeremy; I have a notion 
of taking you along. O come ; you must and you shall ; 'tis time you made 
your bow to the fashionable world, and with a few hints from me I dare 
swear you'll conduct yourself admirably." 

Jeremy had demurred, fearing, as indeed he had reason, that Sele 
might bring him before his noble friends only to make game of him. But 
his new finery gave him courage, and he was conscious besides that the wit 
for which he was known at Cambridge might well serve him here. So 
"Very well, Ned," he said, with dignity; " but first you must describe to 
me the nature of the company, and the behavior that will suit it." 

"Come on, then," said Sele, marching him about ; " that I'll tell you on 
the way. You shall meet, sir, the genteelest people of the neighborhood. 
A countess or two, a baron, and a colonel and his lady I may safely promise 
you. Then there is Manson of the Guards, who travels with me, and Sir 
Bobert Beauchamp, and his sister, Mrs. Ambrose. Now these are all 
mighty agreeable, but their entertainments are the dullest things in the 
world. You do nothing at their houses but play cards, eat sweetmeats, and 
stroll in their gardens when the cards are over. But perhaps this is no news 
to you." 

Jeremy confessed that so far he had spent his time in reading, strolling 
about the town, and going to the cathedral for mass, and that he knew the 
customs of the province not even by reputation. 

" Then," said Sele, "you have less to unlearn, for to-night we meet 
only to walk and chat, and I hope we shall be merry and Arcadians. Affect 
an easiness of behavior, be light, and elegant, and gallant, and, if you love 
me, Jeremy, forget that you know any tongues but the French and the 
English ; a bit of Latin will mark you a pedant." 

"Not even Horace?" asked Jeremy, doubtfully. "Sure, every one 
knows Horace, Ned." 


"Forsake Horace, too," answered his companion. Mr. Sele squeezed 
Jeremy's arm to his side and chuckled inwardly, promising himself no little 
entertainment from the stiff little scholar when he should attempt lightness 
of manner, and make pretty speeches to the ladies. 

The garden for which they were bound was one with which Mr. Browne 
was already familiar. It was, indeed, an inn garden, carefully planted and 
trimmed, and set about with shade trees. A fountain playing in the middle 
gave it the air of belonging to a chateau. Jeremy observed certain magnifi- 
cent coaches waiting along the outer line of trees ; among them that one he 
had noticed earlier in the evening. " Mrs. Ambrose is here," murmured 
Mr. Sele, with satisfaction, noting it, too. Jeremy looked at the graceful 
groups clustered about the garden seats, strolling between rows of tulip 
beds, heard ripples of light laughter, and felt that he was indeed entering 
into the fashionable world. He bore his introduction to it bravely, bowed 
devotedly to the ladies, coolly to the gentlemen, then added himself to the 
outskirts of a group which Mr. Sele had joined, and laughed, contentedly 
enough, at other people's jests. 

At the centre of the group, beyond the reach of the two Englishmen, 
was Mrs. Ambrose, in whom Jeremy recognized the lady of the coach. 
She was doubly attractive to Jeremy and to Mr. Sele ; first, because she was 
by far the fairest lady of the company, and, secondly, because she was 
English, and therefore prepared to receive compliments undisguised by a 
strange tongue. Mr. Sele reached her side first, and skillfully disentangled 
her from the group. He kept an eye on Jeremy as he did it, for he had not 
forgotten his prospective entertainment, and whispered to Mrs. Ambrose to 
observe his friend! "I am weary," said he, "of these dull provincial 
amusements. Let us be pastoral and rollicking for once, and have a song 
or a country dance." 

"Excellent !" said the merry English lady. "You shall have both." 

"And mind you," said Sele, " that we mix honest Jeremy in the midst 
of it. We shall have rare sport from seeing him act the capering swain. 
He is a poet, you must know, and the part will touch his fancy." 

"Excellent again ! " cried the lady. " But I must first try his mettle." 

At this moment it was announced that supper would be served in the 
garden. It was a charming idea, and all applauded Mr. Sele, who, it was 


said, had arranged it. Honest Jeremy, who was beginning to feel a little 
ill at ease, found to his own surprise that he had somehow seated himself at 
the left of Mrs. Ambrose, and that Mr. Sele was glowering at them both, 
separated by Jeremy from the object of his attentions. 

It had grown so dark that the garden had been lighted by lanterns hung 
from the trees. The stars were not out, and whether the sky was yet blue 
or black was a matter for question. Mrs. Ambrose looked at it anxiously, 
before beginning her attack upon Jeremy. 

" Can you tell me, Mr. Browne," quoth she, " whether the night is to 
be fair or not? My spirits depend on it, and I confess to you that I shall 
not dare be merry till I know." 

Jeremy looked doubtfully at the heavens. "As to the weather, 
madam," said he, "since your temper is to vary with it, I must say with 
the poet, ' scire nefas.' " 

" Mind your Latin ! " growled Mr. Sele, at Jeremy's elbow. But the 
lady smiled, and seemed to take heart about the weather. So she and Jeremy 
were very merry while supper lasted. 

As the company rose and strolled once more about the garden, Mrs. 
Ambrose, mindful of her promise, began very gayly to hum a French song. 
It caught the ear of the strollers, and echoed back from under the rustling 
limes. Jeremy did not know the words, but he caught the air and sang on 
manfully in support of his fair companion. Nor did she laugh at his effort, 
though Mr. Sele sought her eye with a waggish look, to assure her that the 
sport had begun. 

Certain of the company had begun an irregular dance. " Hold ! " cried 
Mrs. Ambrose; " let us have the violins!" "The violins!" echoed Mr. 
Sele, and straightway went to order them. He came to Mrs. Ambrose to 
announce their arrival, and bowing low, asked for her hand in the dance. 
But the lady waved him off with a nourish of her fan, as she had already 
waved off a half dozen others. "I have engaged myself," said she, "to 
this gentleman. And I assure you," she went on in a lower tone, as 
Jeremy took her hand for the dance, "I find him, as you said, vastly 

The dance was formed by this time, and Sele found that he must enjoy 
the sight of Jeremy's capers by himself. But behold Jeremy walking a 


minuet as correctly as possible, hardly distinguishing himself at all, save as 
the attendant of Mrs. Ambrose. And when the minuet gave way to a merry 
country dance, Jeremy, still honored with the hand of Mrs. Ambrose, circled 
gayly by, laughing with the rest. Thanks to the guiding fingers of his 
lovely partner, he gave little sport to poor Sele. That youth hardly felt 
that he had a right even to a sneer, so contented himself with muttering dire 
imprecations upon Mrs. Ambrose for her caprices, and Jeremy for his good 

When the dance broke up, Mrs. Ambrose, laughing and breathless, had 
another proposition. " Let us," cried she, " leave those who are weary to 
be carried home in their coaches. The rest of us shall make a train of shep- 
herds and shepherdesses, and dance before them to the music of the fiddles. 
What say you? Will it not be rare sport to frighten the honest burghers 
with an heathen merrymaking?" 

There was not a dissenting voice, and two or three of the eagerest shep- 
herds plucked a handful of flowers to crown the leader of revel. She was 
placed at the head of the laughing band, and over the heads of her loyal fol- 
lowers she called for Mr. Browne to attend her. Mr. Sele, rebuffed by a 
second assurance from Mrs. Ambrose that she found his friend most excel- 
lent sport, slunk in the rear, a very sorry shepherd indeed. 

Jeremy's head was still full of the gay dance through the city when 
he awoke next morning, and as early as he decently could, sought Mr. Sele's 
lodgings to express his gratitude for so auspicious an introduction into fash- 
ionable society. Shepherdesses, and masques, and revels rioted through the 
little scholar's mind. 

But Mr. Sele's manservant ushered him doubtfully into a room where 
Mr. Sele still lay idly in his dressing-gown. His gracious friend of the 
evening before greeted Jeremy with scant courtesy, and on his beginning his 
thanks, yawned visibly, and finally cried, " O burn your junketings and your 
Dulcineas ! I have a mind to sleep." 

" Sir ! " cried honest Jeremy, aghast. He conquered his inclination to 
quote an apt and well-known hit from Virgil, and with a magnificent flourish 
of his hand begged Mr. Sele's pardon for disturbing him, and bowed himself 
out. Sele looked indolently out of the window and watched him emerge 
upon the street. Jeremy's head was high, and his bearing haughty in the 


extreme. But it appeared that his thoughts were not upon earthly matters ; 
for the bells beginning at that moment to ring for mass, Mr. Browne medi- 
tatively took his way in the direction of the cathedral. 

Edith Orr. 


It is strange how little the world cares for its sunsets. Even a city 
street on a winter day has its phases, the more precious because rare. 

As you walk toward the west, you wonder why no one stops to notice 
how the projections of doorway and casement are picked out in yellow light, 
and how the shadows, creeping slowly up the walls, put out point after 
point. The big signs are a blur of gold, and at the end of the street the 
outlines of buildings are lost in a luminous haze. 

After a moment the street has grown dark, but the windows above you 
are aflame ; and here and there over a roof you can see a thread of steam 
dissolving in rosy puffs, or a column of smoke taking on the deep purples 
of a storm cloud. The zone of sky shut in by the high walls is a darkening 
red, against which the corners of the buildings jut out black and grim. The 
commonplace figures of the people coming toward you stand out with a new 
value against the glowing curtain which closes the street ; and it suddenly 
occurs to you that any sunset might be the background for an A.ngelus. 

M. E. C, '88. 

Very dry and gray he looked, sitting there alone. And old ! as 
if he had been old when time was young. Existence had nothing left 
for him ; and he was too wise to be moved by the consciousness of the 
fact. Occasionally he lifted a skinny hand, and drew it awkwardly, wearily 
across his face. As he did this the folds of his loose coat shrunk into a long 
groove against his thin sides. From time to time he yawned slowly. 
Probably if he thought it worth while to have preferences, he would have 
preferred to be spared even this exertion in a world where exertions were 
useless. The shadows that the leaves cast about him grew longer ; the 
birds began to sing for sundown. But he sat still on the end of his dead 
branch like a lifeless thing. A weary philosopher was my tree toad. 

A. E. 



" In small proportions we just beauties see, 
And in short measures life may perfect be." 

Ned was still a half-crown lad when his father died and left him in charge 
of his younger sister Nellie and invalid mother. I say " in charge," for Ned's 
mother was one of those gentle, tearful women who must look to a man for 
guidance, even though that man be an irresponsible youngster of fifteen. 
Ned guided his own affairs in a jolly, harmless fashion for two years, and 
then one bright September morning he trotted off to college, armed with an 
absurdly large bank account, a genius for making friends, a quick brain, and 
an unlimited fondness for merrymaking. 

In the middle of his sophomore year Ned came home with a surly look 
on his face, some disagreeable papers in his pocket, and a few parting words 
from the dean of the college stinging in his ears. 

Along in the early spring he caught a severe cold, and one snowy day 
he was too weak to leave his room. It was late that evening that his mother 
came to him. "Ned," she said, tearfully, "I am nearly crazy about Nellie. 
You know she stays out late in the evenings now, and I can't send one of the 
servants for her. I don't know where — I am afraid — afraid," she faltered. 

Ned's boy face grew stern and manly. He dressed hurriedly and went 
out into the storm. Somewhere he found the weak, unguided sister, and 
brought her home cowering. He staggered upstairs to his own room, where 
his mother was miserably walking the floor. "Mother," he said, catching 
her sharply by the arm, "unless you want both your children ruined, never 
let Nellie out of your sight again." He stopped and sat down heavily in the 
nearest chair. "I am afraid you'll have to get John to help me to bed," he 
finished, limply. 

He never got up again. They thought he must have caught more cold 
hunting for Nellie in the storm. Three days afterwards he died. 

S. S. E. 

When you hear a sound like the turning of a rusty wheel in the tree- 
tops, or like two wheels of different keys, you know it at once for squirrel 
abusiveness. Follow it up ; you see somebody's nut going off in somebody 


else's mouth, and the defrauded vainly skipping and scolding in pursuit; or 
you find an interchange of incivilities over a deeper, less obvious wrong going 
on from neighboring boughs. 

This morning, however, I could not understand. The clamor was so 
persistent, a single voice, and always from the same spot. It could be neither 
a nut chase nor a dispute over wife or possessions. Traced to its source, it 
proceeded from a gray bunch deeply aggrieved, — tail over back, now down, a 
swollen and huddling heap of resentment, — the cause apparently nothing. 
A theory of indigestion began to lay hold of my mind, — evil effect of chance 
cooky dropped from upper window, — when snap ! up tail, and out head, with 
a general air of relief; and from behind me, "Purra-meow !" there, all glib 
dlausibility, was that yellow hypocrite of a cat from the paint mill, saying 
how lovely I was, and what was I looking at in the tree? 

G. R. N. 




Among the most pressing needs of the College must now be included 
that of a new library building. 

Our present library shelving is already full, yet we are adding twelve 
hundred volumes a year, with no immediate prospect of a suitable location ; 
and to keep pace with the constant research and scientific progress in the 
departments covered by the college curriculum, three thousand volumes a 
year is a very conservative estimate of what should be added. 

The seating capacity, and the heating and ventilating arrangements of 
the library, were planned for but one half the number of students now work- 
ing there. It was never intended that study tables should be placed in our 
alcoves and galleries, necessarily blocking access to the shelves, and causing 
the reader to be disturbed three or four times an hour by students looking 
up books. The library was planned for and can fitly accommodate but fifty 
or sixty readers ; yet we have one hundred and fifteen chairs, and often the 
steps, and sometimes the floor and window sills, are occupied as well ; and 
this pressure exists for seven or eight hours a day. The quiet, uninterrupted 
study that must be given to secure the best results in a student's work is ab- 
solutely unattainable under such conditions. The constant moving about of 
those looking for and putting away books, of others passing in and out of 
the library, and the continual shifting of chairs in the crowded alcoves, leave 
scarcely a moment when a nervous reader is not rasped and irritated by un- 
avoidable noises. 

It was not intended that the library should be ventilated in winter by 
opening large windows and sending a cold blast upon the readers, and yet no 
other method can now furnish the amount of air needed for brain workers 
crowded into our limited space. Nor was it intended that while the cold air 
streams upon head and shoulders, one should have to sit so near the hot 
registers under the tables. Yet in no other way can students and registers 
now find space. Probably three fourths of the exhausting colds from which 
we suffer each winter, are due to our inadequate library accommodations. 
But even with windows and registers open it is impossible to keep the air 


even fairly pure. The dullest sense must be offended, and the strongest head 
must ache, after two or three hours' hard work in the impure atmosphere. 
Some of the more delicate students are obliged to avoid courses with 
much library reading. 

No college can live without a library, and no college can accomplish 
half its legitimate work in crowded, ill-ventilated rooms. We have now 
about forty-seven thousand volumes, — the largest collection owned by any 
woman's college in the country. If space and pure air were provided for 
their use, no other gift could do so much to improve the quality of our 
students' work, or so assist in their intellectual growth. 

With these facts confronting us, it is certainly time for each member of 
the College and every alumna to realize the desirability of placing our need 
prominently before those who might become interested to found or contribute 
toward a new library building. That something definite may be offered for 
consideration, the accompanying sketch plan for a college library is submitted 
by our librarian, as a suggestion of what may be considered as specially adapted 
to our needs. 

It is suggested that the building be of yellow brick, with light Cleve- 
land sandstone trimmings ; that the inside be finished in the same brick and 
sandstone, except that in the reference room tiling be used ; that the stacks 
be fireproof, and the rest of the building of slow-burning construction. That 
the first floor (or basement) be built high, and furnish several study or stor- 
age rooms, an unpacking room, cloak rooms, etc. That the stacks be fin- 
ished with white brick, and be of three tiers of seven-foot shelving, the mid- 
dle one on a level with the main library floor, and that the walls be about 
twenty-five feet high. That the department, or study rooms, be open to the 
roof, the walls being sixteen feet high. 

The department rooms are expected to shelve about six thousand 
volumes each, and to accommodate about thirty readers, and the main refer- 
ence room to accommodate seventy-five readers, and shelve eight thousand 
volumes. It is supposed that works in science will be located with the 
scientific laboratories, and art works in the Farnsworth Art Building. It is 
expected that free access to the shelves will be granted in reference and 
study rooms, and by application, to the stacks. 



DesiOH fer New Library Eiuildit-id 

• Wellesley-College • 

riarlwcll . Richardson and Driver 


boslon . Mass i 

Such a building would shelve nearly two hundred and seventy-five thou- 
sand volumes, and would probably cost about $200,000. If necessary, for 
immediate needs, the cost could be reduced to $150,000, by omitting the two 
study rooms at the rear, and reducing the capacity of the stacks to about 
sixty thousand volumes. 

[Signed] L. B. Godfrey, 




The tributes to General Walker which poured in from all parts of the 
country at the news of his sudden death, sufficiently attest the magnitude of 
his loss to the world of American colleges. The Massachusetts Institute 
of Technology is one of the few American schools which are held abroad as 
the peers of European institutions. Such schools reflect esteem on the 
entire educational system of the country, and a cloud upon one of them 
overshadows all our colleges. But no one can doubt, after reading the his- 
tory of the administration of the Technology since 1880, and recalling the 
names of the men who are numbered among its alumni, that in his sixteen 
years of service, President Walker secured to the Institute the power to 
accomplish its work, even though he should be removed from the leadership. 
The man who himself sustains an institution is great ; but he is greatest who 
enables an institution to sustain itself. 


The announcement of the death of Mr. Crawford will be read with 
sincere regret by Wellesley students and alumna?. To not a few of the 
officers of the College with whom Mr. Crawford has been associated ever 
since the planning of the main building, his death has brought a personal 
sorrow. Mr. Crawford worked in College Hall as a finishing carpenter at 
the time of its erection. He continued in Mr. Durant's employ, and rose 
gradually into the position of responsibility in which the students of this 
generation have known him. His accurate and detailed knowledge of the 
college business and estate will be missed by both students and faculty, for 
whose comfort and convenience he cared so ungrudgingly ; but yet more 
sensibly by those officers with whom he shared the responsibility of the 
elaborate mechanism of college business administration. Long tried, and 
faithful in his friendship for Wellesley, his memory is one to be gratefully 
honored by the members of the College. 


To any one who comes into the first floor south centre, and looks 
through the open doors of the west side into the new students' parlor ; to 


any one who sees the crowd of girls who swarm about this room in the even- 
ing after dinner ; to any one sensible of the delight that everybody feels in 
having such a room at last ; one thought must occur : What a pleasant thing 
it would be for the students, and what a finishing touch to the centre, if two 
other classes would convert the east side also into open parlors. 


Apropos to a December editorial on Student Self-government Associa- 
tions in Women's Colleges, we quote a Smith girl's answers to certain 
questions: "The principle of President Seelye is this: The girls should 
not be governed by laws, but by ideals of honor. It is taken for granted 
that students who come to Smith have high ideals of honor, and he con- 
siders it better to remove those who do not than to make all suffer for 
their sake. 

"In the daytime the girls do not have to have permission to go out of 
town or to attend the theatre, if they do not cut recitations. If they cut a 
recitation they must have an excuse from the registrar. If they go out of 
town or to the theatre in the evening, they must ask permission of the house 
matron and must have a chaperone. Girls not living on the campus do not 
need to have permissions if they do not cut recitations. 

"It is understood that the girls shall not go down town after dark ; if 
they do so, and are met by one of the Faculty, they will not be recognized. 

" Thei'e are no restrictions on Sunday traveling. 

"I think there are no written rules except those for the houses, such as 
not to stick pins in the wall, etc. Each house on the campus has a house 
president, vice president, and treasurer, chosen from the girls ; also an 
entertainment committee." [Smith girls do not change residence during 
their college course, as Wellesley girls do ; but each chooses her home her 
first year, and remains there throughout the four years.] "In these houses 
the lights must be out at ten. If a girl is reported for burning her light 
five times in a week after ten, she must leave the campus." 

From Vassar we quote the following fragmentary and concise 
account : — 

"Travel on Sunday. Nine tenths came back Sunday night after 
Thanksgiving. Nothing especial done. No rule about it. 


*' Theatre. — Go to Mrs. K., and say going with chaperone. Sometimes 
only nominal chaperone. Amy went once without asking permission.* 
Nothing came of it. 

"Tell Mrs. K., going away. If miss recitation get excuse. Always, 
except for long vacations, get permission, — all, seniors, freshmen, etc. 
Depends on girl's standing. Almost always allowed. For cuts from chapel, 
Students' Association." 


Both these notes corroborate our statement of last month to the effect 
that the Wellesley system of " cuts" is peculiarly liberal. The authorities 
at Smith and Vassar undertake to decide for the students whether they shall 
cut or not. Here we are allowed to get our own experience as to how much 
we can afford to cut, and though we make mistakes, we learn more through 
our own mistakes than we could learn through other people's wisdom. 


There seems to be a confidence and frankness in the students' attitude 
toward theatre permissions which we have not yet reached. Here a stu- 
dent goes for a theatre permission with a distinct sense that she may not get 
it, — that this is something on a very peculiar footing ; that there is some un- 
stated, but very small, number of times beyond which she is not expected 
to indulge her taste for theatre and the opera ; that some one entirely out 
of sympathy with her way of learning, and of seeing things, may have the 
decision as to what she may attend, and how often ; that it is possible 
that this judge may actually know less about theatre and opera than she her- 
self; that if she believes in obeying miles, she is quite at the mercy of this 
permission-giver ; that if she does not obey rules, she may get pretty 
much what she wants in the way of theatre or opera without great risk of 
detection ; that some students have, by simply taking the matter into their 
own hands, had treble the number of theatre excursions that were allowed to 
others ; that the disobedient had the pleasure and the education of many good 
things, while the obedient spent corresponding evenings of wrath and bitter- 
* [Editor's Note. Amy is a student both prominent and conscientious. ] 


ness of mind over an attitude she could not understand, and with which she 
could not sympathize. We go, in short, with a sense that we may he met 
by what seems to the educated world in general, unreasonableness ; as, for 
instance, last spring, when permissions to see Bernhardt in " Camille " were 
refused, and students were forbidden to see Duse until, after she had played 
some time, we were at length given permission. Apparently the college 
officials had either become better informed about her, or had been reached 
by the general sense of the unfitness of the refusal, which was at large. 
With regard to an artist like Bernhardt, who is seen by so many people 
of unimpeachable standing, it seems to us a matter for personal choice 
whether or not one will refuse to see her because of her private character. 
Some of the college authorities may disapprove of her being seen ; but 
there is a world of equally enlightened men and women, including some 
of the other college authorities, who would approve ; so that the question 
is one less of right and wrong, than of individual opinion. And those 
students who wanted to see her might have been given the benefit of the 
uncertainty. To eschew the theatre one's self is well enough, but to foiTe 
other people to eschew it, and to constitute one person sole judge of what 
shall be temperate indulgence for other people, is inconsistent with the 
spirit of this College. 

Wellesley girls are not apt to overdo theatre-going. We are kept too 
hard at work for that. Few girls would be unable to tell when the indul- 
gence began to interfere with business, and surely it is better to follow Presi- 
dent Seelye's principle and remove those few, rather than to make all suffer 
for their sakes. What we want is a more generous attitude toward indi- 
vidual student opinion in the matter of theatre permissions. How can our 
wisdom increase unless we are trusted to use it? 


The Free Press is still open to answers to the questions on the expense 
of a course at Wellesley. We are glad to print five articles on the subject 
this month, and we hope for more before the next issue. 



I have read with interest the recent articles upon the expense of living 

at Wellesley. Complying with the Magazine's request for more articles, I 

will gladly contribute mine, with the hope that it may be of use to any one 

contemplating a college course at my Alma Mater. The following is a 

correct average of my expenses for each year : — 

Railroad fare from home to College and return $68.00 

Vacation and pleasure trips ......... 18.00 

Books 8.00 

Clothes 50.00 

Laundry 12.00 

Paper, stamps, etc 3.00 

Room furnishings 5.00 

Necessary sundries 14.00 

Unnecessary sundries 14.00 

Tuition and board 350.00 

Vacation board 6.00 

Music 100.00 

Total $648.00 

This is to answer the question, "Can a girl go through college with five 
hundred dollars a year?" From the above total it would not seem so, but 
I am sure it is possible. Deduct from this average the railroad fare, pleasure 
trips, vacation board, unnecessary sundries, clothes, and music, and the re- 
mainder will be $392 ; add to this the extra $50 for tuition now, and it 
becomes $442. This leaves a margin of $58 for railroad fare, etc. If $500 
were to be allowed me now to return to college for a year I know that it 
would be sufficient, although I did spend more when there. 

Adelaide Smith, '93. 

The following is a statement of the amount of money that was mine 
during my junior and senior years, — the only years I spent at Wellesley. 

JUNIOR TEAK, '90-91. 

Total amount of cash spent $501.00 

Board from December 17 to January 6 paid for by library work. 


The items included in the expenditures were : — 

Railroad fares, local, and to and from Chicago. 

Board, $200.00. 

Tuition, $150.00. 

Books, stationery, and other working materials. 

Laundry, in part. 

Some dressmaking and repairs. 

Some furnishings for room. 



Donations, and presents, and dues. 

Other unclassified items. 

SENIOR YEAE, '91-92. 

Total amount of cash spent $490.24 

Board from December 17 to January 6, and from March 31 to April 4, paid 

for by work in the library 21.65 

Total $511.89 

My expenses for this year were distributed over about the same items, 
in general, as during the previous year. I can say that I had about all the 
necessaries, many comforts, and not a few luxuries of college life during my 
sojourn at Wellesley. I economized in several directions, for example, by 
doing my washing in part, and buying secondhand books, or renting them. 

I was forced to spend extra time in study, because of my brief stay at 
Wellesley, so I had to forego much of the social life, and consequently did 
not have so much expense in this phase of college life as other less confined 
students. Gifts of money received at birthday anniversaries, Christmas 
time, and on other occasions, as well as money earned by myself, contrib- 
uted toward my expenditures. 

I enjoyed taking the Wellesley Prelude, and keeping in touch with the 
general interests at the College, though at times I felt deprived of some 
social advantages. If this extended account encourages one srii'l, at the 
least, to enter Wellesley, I shall feel that my effort to answer the Free Press 
inquiry concerning expenses at Wellesley is not in vain. P. 


If it is not too late for another account of college expenses, I would 
like to give ray experiences. I lived near enough college to go home fre- 
quently, and my traveling expenses are included in all estimates ; but it is 


also true that I had my washing done at home. For my freshman year I 
cannot give statistics, but make a most generous estimate in giving my ex- 
penses as $50.00. My sophomore year, the only one in which I kept full 
accounts, I spent $29.40 as follows : — 

Books $5.70 

Stationery 3.64 

Traveling 10.63 

Dues, etc 3.43 

Laboratory 2.02 

Miscellanies 3.98 

Total $29.40 

Junior year I spent about $50.00, and senior year about $60.00 (by 
account $39.17 from September to the middle of March). It is true that I 
did not buy all the books I wanted, could not subscribe large amounts to 
anything, went without " Legendas" and Glee Club tickets, and was generally 
economical ; but I bought a cap and gown, took many laboratory courses, 
belonged for two years to what is considered, I believe, one of the most ex- 
pensive of the " six mutually exclusive societies," and was not " out of 
things " at all. My opinion is that a girl can go through college on less than 
five hundred a year, but that she never will succeed in doing it unless she 
has to. If she be economical, a hundred for general expenses is a moder- 
ately liberal allowance. 

An Economical '95. 


For the further benefit of our new Royal Society for the Investigation 
of Financial Statistics, I send the following classified selections from my 
account book for the last three years : — 

Freshman. SopUomore. Junior. 

Books $20.44 $24.71 $14.39 

Stationery 5.52 6.73 5.05 

Stamps 2.29 3.84 3.43 

Laundry 4.67 3.40 6.20 

Traveling expenses 3.54 17.15 12.27 

Dues and subscriptions for class (including \ 

boat), Christian Ass'n, concert fund, Col- > 6.67 14.35 8.37 

lege Settlement, etc. ) 



Room furnishings 

Eatables, and table celebrations 


Total . 















My " miscellaneous" includes not only such items as matches and term 
bills, but also flowers, Glee Club concert tickets, class pin, Tree Day cos- 
tumes and photographs, Legendas, and programmes and tickets for several 
guests each Float. With a single exception I have bought all my books, 
and all but a few of them at first hand. My room furnishings were paid for 
with birthday money, given for the purpose. The omission of this item 
brings my sophomore expenses within the hundred dollar limit. My greatest 
saving is in the laundry bill, for I have always washed the smaller pieces 
myself, and taken many of the others home. I am certain a girl can go 
through college on a hundred dollars a year, and not feel left out of the good 
times, provided she is careful. '97. 

May I add my word of experience to those already given concerning 
college expenses? The following table has been carefully worked out from 
a set of account books, whose balancing was a monthly source of perplexity 
to me while in college; but which now prove a great satisfaction, because 
of the aid, however small, which they may give : — 

Books (necessary) . 

Books (unnecessary) 


Postage . 

Traveling Expenses 




Flowers . 





Freshman. Sophomore. Junior. Senior. 


































































This table shows an extravagance in the item of necessary books, as all 
suggested were bought, and these all new. The laundry item is missing in 
the freshman list, as my laundry work was done at home ; and my room 
expenses were small, as most of the fittings were given me. 

Let me say that I thoroughly enjoyed my college course, entered into 
all the good times that my work would allow, and had many little " spreads " 
with my personal friends. E. W., '96. 


Our restriction u gainst Sunday traveling has a mixed basis of hy- 
giene, convention, and religious observance. Some one has added to these 
the maintenance of quiet, but not with entire reason, for Monday is the quiet- 
est day of all, and yet our especial traveling time. The conventional rea- 
son is the sensitiveness of the Boston world to respectability traveling by 
steam on Sunday ; the religious reason, that it is wrong to travel on Sunday ; 
the hygiene, the benefit to the girls of one day when inability to go away 
tempts them into resting. As to the first, some of us venture to think that 
a part of the Boston world is here taken into account to the exclusion of a 
differently minded part, probably as large and as select as those who are sen- 
sitive to Sunday travel between a city and its suburbs. Smith and Vassar, 
too, have, in spite of Sunday traveling, attained a much greater reputation 
for conventionality than Wellesley. The second reason rests on a strict 
interpretation of the fourth commandment. Now, those who do thus inter- 
pret that commandment, and feel bound to obey it, need no law against Sun- 
day traveling ; they are a law unto themselves. But there are others who 
accept no authority in the ten commandments beyond the point where they 
can see the usefulness of the commandments in securing the general welfare. 
The commandment, as a commandment merely, has for them no binding 
force. They obey the college law as such ; but they obey it grudgingly, in 
the spirit of disobedience. This religious observance, made at the dictation 
of other people, without an accompanying observance in spirit, is a very 
irreligious matter, and what benefit those concerned for our spiritual welfare 
expect us to receive from it is not clear. 

Many of those who confess no religious obligation to obey the command- 
ments, however, feel the hygienic value of one day of rest in seven. The 


question of the law, then, becomes this : is it best for a college to force the 
individual student to do the strictly hygienic thing? Sunday traveling is 
not parallel with making a noise after ten. Disturbances after ten may break 
into the eight or nine hours of sleep which one's neighbors need. The Sun- 
day travel of a student would not break the Sabbath calm even of her room- 
mate, any more than would a call from friends across the corridor. This 
restriction becomes one, not for the general, but for the individual welfare, 
in very much the same fashion that a law against fudge making on Sunday 
would be. On the whole, we think Sunday fudge has a more deadly and 
general effect than Sunday travel would have. Yet who would forbid it if 
the students choose to make it? The liberty to choose between right and 
wrong, expediency and inexpediency, is more valuable where such liberty to 
the individual does not endanger community welfare, than the strictest ad- 
herence to virtue simply because we are not allowed to do wrong. 

P., '97. 


A Puritan Bohemia, by Margaret Sherwood. New York : the Mac- 
millan Co. 

The readers of the " Experiment in Altruism" have hailed Miss Sher- 
wood's new book with delight, and read it with no less. The story is in 
many ways the match piece of the "Experiment." It lies, speaking 
roughly, along the same lines, with yet the points of contrast of the match 
piece. There is the same Boston setting, the same prevailing thought of 
social reform, — or rather thought about thought of social reform, — the same 
epigrammatic zest of style, the same atmosphere of purity and mental well- 
being. On the other hand, it is the sunshine scene of the pair; where the 
"Experiment in Altruism" leaves us in the shadow of a great grief, "A 
Puritan Bohemia" ends with happiness and success. The theme is not a new 
one, — a woman's choice between love and art; but the development is new, 
namely, the woman's choosing art, to the great satisfaction of the reader. 
There is, however, a haunting suspicion that it was not a fair case. Would 
the reader have applauded Anne's artist celibacy so readily if the book had 
not been, as Thackeray calls " Vanity Fair," a novel without a hero — with 
only a nice boy? In the unity given by fewer characters the later book 


has a distinct advantage over the first somewhat overcrowded canvas. But 
in strength of the story itself, it seems to us to fall something short of the 
earlier one. It is a thing to be handled, perhaps, less seriously, because it 
is the story of a less genuine thing. It is not a story of love, but of a young 
woman who was half in love and thought she was not, and a young man who was 
not at all in love and thought he was. The question whether a woman may 
find her life most fully in art rather than in love is, on the whole, skillfully 
evaded. Whatever one's opinion on this point may be, however, the book 
is certainly delightful reading, as anything must be coming from a writer 
incapable of a dull or a trite line. 

A Puritan's Wife, by Max Pemberton. New York: Dodd, Mead & 
Co. 1896. 

In " A Puritan's Wife," Mr. Max Pemberton has attempted to rewrite 
a book no less widely read than " Lorna Doone." For the sake of appear- 
ances, the time of action is put back in the first years after Cromwell's 
Protectorate, the names of the characters are changed, and the structure of 
the plot is altered somewhat. For instance, Marjory, who is the heroine 
Lorna, dressed out in seventeenth century attire, has found protection in 
her youth not among an aristocracy of thieves, but with an excellent Eng- 
lish gentleman of the County of Huntington, whose politics, "that had 
ever a leaning, though not so much as to risk anything thereby, to the cause 
of the Lord Protector," enabled him to offer a safe harbor to neighbors 
who had fallen upon misfortune through want of such prudence as his. Mar- 
jory, of course, is of noble loyalist family, and, like her prototype, regains 
station and wealth at the hands of a sovereign who cannot bear to have a 
pretty damsel go in want. Her ladyship also follows the prescribed meth- 
ods of dealing with the thick-headed, big-boned lover, who from bucolic 
John Ridd is become the exiled Roundhead, Hugh Peters. The Doones, the 
early guardians of Lorna, do not appear in this revision in any guise. The 
life of the Lady Marjory has none but a historical interest before the time 
when, in her twenty-fifth year, she becomes the heroine of romance. The 
elder Peters, the prudent country squire who gives her shelter in her youth, 
is, with the guardian Doones, felt to be a needless accessory to the career of 
a heroine who has attained her legal majority, and he is, in consequence, very 
properly disposed of with an obituary of two sentences. This judicious 


editing makes the book shorter by about two thirds, and leaves a fragment 
that is really quite as symmetrical as the original whole. The excision of 
the Doones is, all in all, highly commendable. 

Some minor characters there are, of course, in "A Puritan's Wife," 
whose business it is to help the hero along in his adventures ; and to en- 
able him at last to get the better of the villain. Hugh Peters, who is John 
Ridd, tells the story of his successes in the first person, and, like his model, 
an eno-aging; British bashfulness in the manner of the telling does not con- 
ceal from the reader that he is the principal personage of the book. His 
stupidity is colossal, his courage of the stolid, slow-witted, bull-dog order, 
and his exploits are so remarkably improbable, that the ingress of heavy 
John into the Doone Valley by the device of climbing a waterfall sinks 
into ordinary credibility in comparison. The seventeenth century hero suf- 
fers a further loss of dignity by being opposed to a man of much cleverness 
and charm, a courtier and an altogether pleasant acquaintance, save for his 
little failing of treacherous intentions toward his rival ; a polished, nimble- 
witted, ready-handed gentleman, who, in his capacity of villain, unfortu- 
nately defeats the hero at sword play. Who but the conventional, worthy 
Briton, when already laboring under the unromantic disadvantage of appear- 
ing to his readers as "Hugh Peters," would have taken pains to record of 
himself such a little fiasco as that sword prick? 

Sentence for sentence, "A Puritan's Wife" is better written than 
" Lorna Doone," and nothing more can be said of it. It is less long- 
winded than Mr. Blackmore's book ; but, on the other hand, it wants the 
quaintness, the provincial naivete, and the frankly owned desire to tell a 
love story that have endeared "Lorna Doone" to the popular heart. 

The Land o' the Leal, by David Lyall. New York : Dodd, Mead & 
Co., 1896. 

"The Land o' the Leal" is, as may readily be guessed from its title, 
another production of what has been dubbed " The kale-yard school." It is 
a collection of short stories which have to do, nominally, at least, with Scotch 
places and people. The tales are sparsely besprinkled with Scotch phrases, 
and one of them recites the change of heart of a wicked lord, which plainly 
fixes their scene in an aristocratic country ; but beyond these slight auxili- 
aries, the book relies for local character and color upon geographical allu- 


sions alone. Add to this that the writer had not one single story to tell, in 
the first place, and has evidently chosen fourteen assorted morals and then 
compiled a plot to illustrate each, and the result is the only possible one, — 
a book that is a hopeless bore. 

King Noanett, by F. J. Stimson (J. S. of Dale). Boston, New York, 
and London : Lamson, Wolffe & Co., 1896. 

" King Noanett," by Mr. F. J. Stimson, is a story of the adventures of 
two Englishmen in the American colonies of Virginia and Massachusetts 
Bay, toward the end of the seventeenth century. The two, Miles Courtenay 
and a friend, go into the wilderness in search of an English girl who is be- 
lieved to have been stolen by the Indians. Both men are avowedly devoted 
to a lost mistress, although neither knows that the other's ladylove is his 
own. They travel through the settlements in search of her, and the history 
of their wanderings, gives Mr. Stimson an opportunity to introduce scenes 
and incidents of American colonial life, upon which he is an authoi'ity. 

The denouement of the story is suddenly brought about, and its manner 
is so unexpected as to ai'ouse in the reader almost a suspicion of careless con- 
struction. The lady is rescued, and owns her love for Courtenay's friend ; 
Courtenay dies within the hour, pierced by an Indian arrow ; and the mys- 
terious Indian chief who has made the adventurers so much trouble is cap- 
tured, and found to be no other than the lady's own father, who had taken 
refuge with the savages to escape the vengence of the restored Stuarts, and 
who had spirited his daughter away in order to have her with him. 

Barring this abruptness in the climax, however, the narrative runs along 
easily, and its interest is evenly maintained. In spite of the dangers which 
on every side beset the telling of a story of love and venture in the manner 
of the early seventeenth century, and with the accessories of early colonial 
setting and incident, Mr. Stimson has made of ' ' King Noanett " a very 
readable book. 


What All the World's A- Seeking, by Ralph Waldo Trine. Boston : 
G. H. Ellis, 1896. Price, $1.25. 

Students Series of English Classics, Oarlyle's Essay on Burns, and 
Eryden's Palamon and Arcite. Boston, New York, and Chicago : Leach, 
Shewell & Sanborn, 1896. Price, each, 35 cents. 


Heath's Pedagogical Library. Studies in Historical Method, by Mary 
Sheldon Barnes, Assistant Professor of Modern History at the Leland Stan- 
ford, Junior, University. Boston : D. C. Heath & Co., 1896. Price, 90 cents. 

Heath's Pedagogical Library. English in American Universities, by 
Professors in the English Departments of Twenty Representative Institu- 
tions ; edited, with an Introduction, by William Morton Payne. Boston : 
D. C. Heath & Co., 1895. Price, $1.00. 

First Greek Book, by John Williams White, Ph.D., Professor ot 
Greek in Harvard University. Boston and London: Ginn & Co., 1896. 
Price, $1.25. 

International Law: A Simple Statement of its Principles, by Herbert 
Wolcott Bowen. New York and London : G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1896. 
Price, $1.25. 

Handbook of Courses Open to Women in British, Continental, and 
Canadian Universities. New York : The Macmillan Company, 1896. 
Price, fifty cents. 

King Noanett, by F. J. Stimson (J. S. of Dale). Boston, New York, 
and London : Lamson, Wolffe & Co., 1896. 

A Puritan's Wife, by Max Pemberton, author of "The Little Hugue- 
not," etc. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1896. Price, $1.25. 

Echoes from the Mountain, by C. E. D. Phelps. New York and 
London : G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1896. Price, $1.00. 

The Land o' the Leal, by David Lyall. New York: Dodd, Mead & 
Co., 1896. Price, $1.00. 


The exchanges come to us in vacation. As they lie on the library 
table beside the larger magazines, the exchanges of "the outside world," we 
find in one, as in the other set, a predominance of the Christian theme and 
spirit. This is one of the possessions which we hold in common with the 
rest of the world. 

The Nassau Magazine has a pleasant little story called "Christmas 
Eve," good not for its originality, but because genuine self-sacrifice for 
another, even in the case of a hungry child and hot rolls, has always the 
lustre of Sir Philip Sidney's chivalry. 


It seems hardly necessary for us to point out again to the Nassau, or 
to any other magazine, our standpoint regarding alumnse contributions. 
Because ours is the college, not the undergraduate publication, we welcome 
articles from the older Wellesley girls. If the alumnse are a part of the 
College, as we trust and believe they are, then it is most fitting that their 
names appear in the Magazine. 

"The Song of Boreas," in the Nassau, has good spirit and swing. 
Here are a few stanzas : — 


When the seagull cries in the Northland skies 

And startles the slumbering ocean, 
I awake from dreams of the Northern Light 
To ravage the waters by day and by night, 
Winging my way with a tireless flight 

And a dauntless, merciless motion. 

Blow, blow, 
Wherever I go — 
A right royal ruler am I; 
I laugh and sing 
While the ice-floes ring 
And the billows acknowledge their lawful king, 
The King of the Northland Sky. 

When the skies, cloud-begowned, re-echo the sound 

Of the thundering petrel's cry, 
And the waves are marshalled in battle array, 
In corselets of foam and helmets of spray; 
Then woe to the sailor who chances my way, 

For the hour of battle is nigh. 

Vain, vain 

My valiant train 
Is the sailor's hope to defy; 
And ready at hand, 
By the Arctic strand, 
Is the towering iceberg, guarding the land 
Of the King of the Northland Sky. 

The Amlierst Lit. has forgotten about the Christmas season, or at any 
rate pays the subject no attention. The first article is an excellent piece of 
musical verse by A. C. Henderson, which we give in full : — 



Down the cathedral aisles there rushed a sound 

Like the foreboding of some long-imagined woe, — 
The solemn breathing of the organ's full-voiced bass, 

A seashore whisper gently soft and low. 
It seemed to roll thro' every vacant space 

And fill the air with some mysterious dread; 
O'er stall and choir, o'er tomb and sepulchre 

Its quivering tide flowed on o'er quick and dead. 

Then from the clouded background of mere sound 

There stole a note of music sweet and clear; 
Like touch of cool hand on a fevered brow, 

It brought a sense of some loved presence near, 
As though some radiant angel pure and strong 

Had heard the organ throb, and downward flew 
To tune its mighty note to his clear voice, 

And bring it into concord sweet and true. 

The slender strain flowed onward like a stream 

Fretting its banks and curling 'round the stones; 
Growing in volume as it gathered strength, 

Still louder, freer rang its swelling tones. 
Upward it surged, and ever upward rose 

As to ideals it could ne'er attain, 
Then paused; then softly, slowly did subside, 

And the hushed organ was at rest again. 

— The Amherst Lit. 

The other most seriously interesting thing in this number is called 
"The Amherst Sj^irit of Complaint." It is something to set to thinking 
several people outside of Amherst. This is one suggestive paragraph : — 

Something is radically wrong when education is so misconceived, or rather unconceived, 
that it is considered not a process of personal acquisition, a slow growth in self-poise and self- 
power, to be gained at any price, but a mechanically adjusted and arbitrarily governed system, 
to be rejected at will, of learning facts by rote. A college gives an opportunity for education. 
The utilization of that opportunity depends on the student. A course of study means that the 
college will, to the best of its ability, back the student selecting that course, and that it will 
give him the benefit of the learning and experience of an expert in that line; provided, always, 
that the student wants help and advice. It is not here assumed that Amherst College is perfect 
in its appointments. Few colleges do not suffer from the misjudgments of those who are or 
have been in power. It is, nevertheless, asserted that Amherst offers excellent educational 
opportunities in many lines, that a majority of her professors are men of learning, and a few 
of them men of wide sympathy, and that it is indefensible for a student to criticise unfavorably 
opportunities of value which have come to him gratuitously. 


In the Vassar Miscellany we notice an interesting story with an 
hypnotic theme, "A Christmas Mystery." "The Story of Christine," savors 
rather too much of the high romantic. It is not quite natural, either in 
theme or narration. "The Choice of Death" has a strong subject, and is 
more than fairly well done. 

The Polytechnic seems hardly up to a fair standard this month. " A 
Strange Christmas Gift" and " The Priest of Osiris" are both painful and 
impossible in subject, and have no art of treatment to justify their publica- 
tion. " The Confessions of a Pilgrim" is better, and " Paracelsus" is inter- 
esting. Several other things are only slightly funny, and do not raise the 
tone of the magazine. Let the Polytechnic not try to be flippant. 

We are glad to hear from the Round Table of the forthcoming Greek 
play to be given at Beloit. 

The Smith Monthly is a particularly good number. The critique on 
" Sir George Tressady " is discriminating and forcible. " The Independent 
in Politics " is seriously good. This is the last paragraph, which sums up 
the position of the writer : — 

We have seen that the Independent movement accomplishes a good more negative than 
positive; that its most highly organized and ambitious form can only accomplish half its pur- 
pose, and that it has the disadvantages of a reform imposed from without; while the work of 
the internal reformers is slow, but thorough and permanent, — such that when accomplished it 
will be a complete regeneration of party life. Then let us hope that every man who has the 
improvement of American politics sincerely at heart, will stay faithfully by his chosen party, 
whichever that may be. 

" A Castle in the Air" is a beautiful bit of work, with the genuine ring 
of feeling. 

In the Mount Holyohe we notice a well-told modern story, " Orpheus 
and Eurydice, revised version," and a well-told mediaeval story, "The Bells 
of Yss." The leading article, on "The Vein of Mystery in Literature," is 
interesting, but, as such a large subject, would be more effective if further 

The Brown Magazine contains a thoughtful sketch of Emily Dickinson's 
work and style. 

The Christmas number of the Yale Courant comes out in a charming 
booklet form. It gives a light and merry " Saint Nicholas — His Roundelay," 
and a good little story of " Chivalry." 


The Yale Lit. has a reflective article on "The Secret Places," ve im- 
penetrating and thoughtful. " Dobson and a Clown" is cleverly put. 

We add this verse, which we think has caught the spirit of its fore- 
runners and original. 


" Barefoot friar in cowl and gown, 
Wandering, wandering, town to town, 
Frozen in winter, — parched with heat, 
Sackcloth clothing, — little to eat. 
For lusty youth in the spring of life 

Temptations there always be 
Of wine and women, song and strife, 

But what hath tempted thee? 
The warmest fire and the softest bed, 

And a jug of nut-brown ale, 
To thee give I, an thou prophesy 

Wherein thou wilt soonest fail." 

"Sherwood ranger, clad in green, 

Bow and quiver on thy back, 
Satan's wiles, like a maiden's smiles, 

Are never the same, alack. 
But chiefest of all the wicked snares 

He setteth for men like me 
Is greedy avarice. Gold I love, 

For gold I seldom see. 
The Abbot's purse is large and fat, 

The Friar's is lean and emptied; 
And merely to share thy guerdon fair 

I'll tell thee how I am tempted. 
Within the greenwood's broad demesne 

I'd bury the Abbot's purse I hold, 
And swear that here bold Kobin's train 

Did beat and rob me of the gold." 

Robin notched an arrow fair, 
Light it sat upon the string: 
" Friar, an angel unaware 

Saved thee from a sinful thing; 
For Robin Hood, within this wood, 

Now beats thee, takes thy purse away; 
But since thou prophesiest true, 
Come dine with me to-day." 

— Tale Lit. 



Saturday, January 16. — Professor Coman. 
Sunday, January 17. — Rev. Win. E. Barton. 
Sunday, January 24. — Rev. H. M. King. 
Monday, January 25. — Concert. 
Thursday, January 28. — Rev. Charles Cuthbert Hall. 
Sunday, January 31. — Rev. Charles Cuthbert Hall. 


The Classical Society held its monthly programme meeting November 21. 
The subject was Sophocles : — 

a. Symposium. 

I. Archaeological News. 
II. Abstract of the Minor Dramas. 

b. I. Life and Personality of Sophocles . Ethelyn Price. 
II. Comparison of yEschylus and Sopho- 
cles ...... Annie C. Barnard. 

'Miss Fletcher. 

III. Selection from CEdipus Colonne Edith Ames. 

(lines 1,450 through the play) . | Isabel Thyng. 

i Marcia Smith. 

The regular meeting of the Shakespeare Society was held December 12. 
The programme was as follows : — 

I. Shakespeare News Mary Spink. 

II. Dramatic Representation, Richard III., 
Act II., Scene 2. 

Duchess of York .... Gertrude Bushmore. 

Queen Elizabeth .... Maude Alney. 

Son of Clarence .... Louise Orton. 

Daughter of Clarence . . . Florence Bennett. 



III. Dramatic Representation, Henry 
Part II., Act II., Scene 4. 


Duke of Gloucester .... 

Bessie Sullivan 

Duchess of Gloucester 

Flora Skinner 

/Sir John Stanley .... 

Louise Loomis 

Sheriff, Officer, Servant. 

V. Dramatic Representation, Antony and 

Cleopatra, Act III., Scene 2. 

Agrippa ...... 

Helen Capron 

Enobarbus ..... 

Joanna Oliver 

Cfesar ...... 

Florence Painter 

Antony ...... 

Corinne Wagner 

Lepidus ...... 

Margaret Merrill 

Octavia ...... 

Louise Orton 

V. Dramatic Representation, Henry IV., 

Part II., Act II., Scene 2. 


Geneva Crumb 

Prince Hal ..... 

Mary Gilson 

Bardolph ...... 

Mary Spink 

Gadshill ...... 

Louise McDowell 


Bertha Straight 

Poins ...... 

Elizabeth Cheney 


Miss Blake, '94, Miss Wellman, '95, and Miss Adams, '96, were present 
at the meeting. 

The Phi Sigma Society held a regular meeting December 12, with the 
following programme : — 

Life and Times of iEschylus . . . Helen Hunt, '98. 

The Trilogy Outlined Eunice Smith, '98. 

The Trilogy as Legend and Myth . . Elizabeth Hiscox, '97. 

Miss Alma Seipp, '99, was initiated into the Society. 


The regular monthly meeting of the Agora was held on December 12, 
in Elocution Hall, with the following programme : — 
Impromptu Speeches. 

The relations between Spain and the United 

States ..... Martha Townsend Griswold, '99. 

The President's Message . . . Carolyn Davis, '97. 

The Dingley Bill .... Miriam Hathaway, '97. 


The Australian Ballot . . . Julia N. Colles, '97. 

The History of the Civil Service . Mabel P. Wall, '97. 

A programme meeting of the Classical Society was held January 8. 
The subject was Euripides. The following is the programme : — 

a. Symposium. 

I. Archa?ological News. 

b. Discussion. 

I. Comparison between Early and Late Greek 

Tragedy, in ^Eschylus and Euripides . Professor Chapin. 
II. Comparison between Late Greek and Mod- 
ern Classical Tragedy in Euripides' "Iphi- 
geneia in Tauris " and Goethe's ' ' Iphe- 

genie auf Tauris" .... Julia D. Randall. 

III. Selection from Media (445-626) . . Louise T. Wood. 


We would call the attention of those students who have not yet 
observed it, to the fact that in the new North Lodge is a pleasant little front 
room which has been fitted up for the use of those waiting to take electrics. 

Nov. 29. — The Class of '97 held a social in the gymnasium, at which 
the class history for the junior year was presented. 

Nov. 30. — President Hyde, of Bowdoin College, preached in the chapel. 

Dec. 5. — In the afternoon Mrs. Margaret Deland gave a reading in the 
chapel from her story entitled " Counting the Cost." The problem of the 
story was, whether a girl who has come to college from illiterate surround- 
ings and has completed her college course in the most satisfactory fashion, 



ought to live thereafter for the vocation for which college has fitted her, or 
for the home people with whom she has grown out of touch. The 
attempt to handle such a theme by a woman who has had no experience of 
college life, furnished table talk for two days after the reading. The Liter- 
ature Department gave a reception in the evening for Mr. and Mrs. Deland. 
Mrs. Deland again read selections from her own writings. 

The same evening the Class of '98 held its annual social in the gymna- 
sium, and the class history for the preceding year was given. 

Dec. 6. — President Hyde, of Bowdoin College, preached in the chapel. 

Dec. 7. — Professor Carl Fehlb, of Boston, gave a piano recital in the 

Dec. 7, 9 and 14. — President Irvine was at home in Norumbega parlor 
to the members of the senior class. 

Dec. 9. — Mrs. Kate Douglas Wiggin Riggs paid a short visit to the 
College. An informal reception was given for her in the evening by the 
Literature Department. 

Dec. 12. — Mrs. Helen Campbell , lecturer on Domestic Science in the Uni- 
versity of Wisconsin, spoke at 4.15 in the chapel on "Decoration of Homes." 

The Barn Swallows had a Dickens Evening in the gymnasium, with 
the following programme : — 

David Copperfield and Dora have Traddles to dinner. 

David Carrie J. Ham, '98. 



Nicholas Nickleby's first morning in Squeers's school. 

Mrs. Squeers 
Nicholas . 
Miss Squeers 


Margaret A. Balch, ''99. 

M. Esther Tebbetts, '97. 

A Village Skye, Gentleman. 

Bessie B. Thomas, '99. 

Mary B. Charlton, '98. 

Annette C. Gates, '97. 

Isabel D. Hoes, 1900. 

Alice M. Austin, '98. 

Helen M. Flower, '98. 

Minnie C. Bridgman, '99. 

Agnes E. Fairlie, '99. 


Quilp surprises an " unexpected" hen party in his house. 

Quilp Elizabeth M. Lane, '99. 

Mrs. Quilp .... Theodosia G. Sargeant, '98. 

Mrs. Quilp's Mother .... Sydna E. Pritchard, '97. 

r Mary Rogers, '98. 

Lady Friends ) Leah Burt, '99. 

I Alice M. Kirkpatrick, '99. 
During the entre-actes the audience sang college songs, and after the 
scenes were over, danced till bedtime. 

Dec. 13. — Rev. Dr. Bradford, of Montclair, N. J., preached in the 
chapel. In the evening Christmas vespers were held in the chapel, music 
being furnished by the Glee Club and the Beethoven Society. The pro- 
gramme was the following : — 

Organ Prelude. 

Hymn 319. 

Reading of the Scriptures. 

Anthem ........ Rheinbeyer. 


Carols ......... Schilling. 

Holy Christmas Night ...... Lassen. 

Hymn 329. 

Carols Barnby. 

Christmas Cantata : " The Angels of the Bells " . . Foster. 

Hymn 322. 

Organ Postlude :" Hallelujah Chorus" . . . Handel. 

Dec. 14. — In the afternoon Miss Dennison, Miss Starr, Miss Meade, 
Miss Boutelle, Miss Piper, Miss Holmes, Miss Graff, and Miss Ordway gave 
a frost fete for their friends in the gymnasium. 

Miss Schmidt, of Boston, gave a stereopticon lecture in the chapel on 
"Italian Art." 

Dec. 16. — College closed for the Christmas vacation. 

Dec. 31. — Mr. Leander Crawford, who has been associated with the 
College since its founding, died at his home in the college grounds. The 
funeral services took place on Sunday, January 3, in the college chapel. 


Dr. Alexander McKenzie, President of the Board of Trustees, and Dr. 
Edward L. Clark, of Boston, officiated. 

Jan. 7. — College reopened for the winter term. 

Jan. 9. — The new students' parlor in College Hall, joint gift from the 
Classes of '94 and '96, was opened, and President Irvine, Dean Stratton, and 
Miss Young, '96, held an informal reception there for the students. The 
parlor has been made by throwing the two rooms on the west side of the 
first floor south center into one. The walls are a rich, quiet green ; the deep 
new window seats, and a great settee that runs the length of the east side 
of the room, are green, also; and the hangings are crimson. The picture of 
four or five field maidens, in brilliant robes, has been brought from the south 
vestibule of the Art Building to this room. Queen Louise has come in 
from the hall outside, and the Cenci in Prison is promised. We have an 
upright piano, for which the students are confidently expecting the Faculty 
to exchange the " grand" now in the Horsford Parlor. Appreciation of this 
room has been expressed by an enthusiastic use of it. On the night after 
the opening, when Mrs. Ballington Booth kindly offered to answer any 
questions that might be put after her talk in the chapel was over, she was 
taken at once to the new parlor, instead of to the much larger Horsford 
room, with the result that crowded-out students stood seven deep in the hall, 
trying vainly to hear. Every evening, after dinner, the room is filled with 
girls, and the gathering-place outside the dining-room doors is falling quite 
into disuse. After the opening of the parlor, English VI. was invited by 
Miss Hart to meet Mr. Bliss Carman in the Horsford Parlor. Mr. Carman 
read a number of his poems, choosing at random from " Vagabondia," and 
from a collection yet in scrap-book form. 

Jan. 10. — Bishop Lawrence, of Massachusetts, preached in the 

In the evening Mrs. Ballington Booth, of the American Volunteers, 
addressed the students on her work among the prisons. Afterwards, in the 
students' parlor, she spoke at somewhat greater length about Hope Hall, her 
New York home, where men just out of prison may live until they find 

Jan. 11. — A string quartette from the Boston Symphony Orchestra 
gave a concert in the chapel. 


The Class of 1900 is the first freshman class to organize before mid- 
year. Officers have been elected as follows : president, Margaret Hall ; 
vice president, Corinne Abercrombie ; recording secretary, Jeannette Capps ; 
corresponding secretary, Geraldine Gordon ; treasurer, Margaret Byington ; 
factotums, Alice Knox, Ethel Bowman ; executive committee, Mary Rock- 
well, Hilda Meisenbach, Katharine Ball. 

The college lists, published by '97, are now on sale in the bookstore. 
They contain, as last year, the names of the trustees and officers of instruc- 
tion and government, the names, home addresses and class rank of all the 
students, also lists of the officers of the various college clubs and organiza- 
tions, and of the officers and members of the college societies. 

In October a call was issued to all graduate students now studying at 
Wellesley, and to all women who had at any time taken the degree of M.A. 
here, to meet to consider the formation of a Wellesley Graduate Club. 
After several meetings the Club was organized, with the following officers : 
president, Clara M. Keefe, '88 ; secretary, Grace B. Townsend, '96 ; treas- 
urer, Bertha C. Marshall, Lake Forest University, '93. The object of the 
Club is to promote interest in graduate instruction, both at Wellesley and in 
other colleges ; to secure representation for Wellesley at the Federation of 
Graduate Clubs ; and to promote social intercourse among the graduate 
students now in College. Eligible to membership are : all students ranked 
as graduate students now working at Wellesley, whether their degree was 
taken here or elsewhere ; all graduates of Wellesley who have done not less 
than a year's graduate work at some other college. The convention of the 
Federation of Graduate Clubs was held at the Johns Hopkins University in 
Baltimore on December 29 and 30. Miss Ellen F. Pendleton, '86, was sent 
as a delegate from the Wellesley Graduate Club. 

A Biology Club, similar to the clubs which have existed for the last 
two years, has been started among the students in the higher Zoology 
courses, under the direction of the Misses Claypole. It holds its meetings 
once a month, and discusses some of the most interesting of the scientific 
questions which, for lack of time, cannot be treated in class. Its programme 
of work so far has been as follows : — 

October. — The Germ Theory of Disease, Miss Edith Claypole. 
Recent News of Scientific Interest, Mary Rogers, '98. 


November. — The History of Evolution . Mabel Wall, '97. 

Evidences of Evolution . . . Grace Laird, '97. 

A general discussion on the subject of Vivisection, for the benefit of 
those taking that forensic subject. 

December. — Rival Theories of Evolution : 

Lamarck . . . Frederika Moore, '98. 

Darwin .... Katherine Wetmore, '97. 

January. — Rival Theories of Heredity : 

Hertwig .... Louise Barker, '98. 

Weisman . . . Miss Agnes Clay pole. 


Wellesley alumna? records should not fail to make mention with pride 
and pleasure of the scholarly achievements of Miss Eliza H. Kendrick, '85, 
known to recent Wellesley students as an inspiring teacher in the department 
of Bible, during 1893-95. Miss Kendrick received in 1895, from Boston 
University, the degree of Ph.D. in Biblical Languages and Literature. 
Besides studying under Prof. H. G. Mitchell, of Boston University, 
Miss Kendrick worked in Assyrian with Professor Lyon, at Cambridge; 
and was honored with the privilege of attending, as a guest, lectures in the 
department of New Testament of the Harvard Divinity School. 

Ellen F. Pendleton, '86, represented the newly formed "Graduate 
Club of Wellesley College "at the recent convention of graduate clubs in 

Eleanor Sherwin, '89, has been appointed Reader in Greek and Latin 
at Chicago University. 

We clip from the Report of Association of Collegiate Alumnce the fol- 
lowing notice : — 

The European Fellowship of the A. C. A. was awarded to Miss Mary Taylor Blauvelt, of 
Wellesley (A.B. '89, A.M. '92), for special work in History and Political Science. Miss Blau- 
velt taught five years, during three of which she held the chair of Greek at Elmira College. In 
the summer of 1895 Miss Blauvelt studied in Germany. The year 1895-96 was spent at Oxford. 


Her course was that leading up to the research degree, which was opened last year to men, but 
which has not yet been opened to women. Miss Blauvelt is doing original work in connection 
with the History and Development of Cabinet Government in England. The Professors of 
History at Oxford speak in high terms of Miss^Blauvelt's work. Professor Powell, Regius 
Professor of Modern History, expresses the hope that as soon as the work is finished Miss 
Blauvelt will bring it out in book form, as it is valuable and is needed. If, as has been pre- 
dicted in some quarters, the next vote at Oxford to grant degrees to women is "yes " instead 
of " no," we may expect to find Miss Blauvelt's work crowned with the research degree. 

Mabel A. Manson, '90, is teaching Greek and Latin in the Portsmouth, 
N. H., High School. 

Frances Knapp, '91, in collaboration with Miss E. L. Childe, has lately 
published a book on "The Thlinkets of Alaska." A review of the work 
says : ' ' Miss Knapp's father was for several years governor of Alaska, and 
residence at Sitka gave both authors unusual opportunity for careful work. 
This work is a distinct addition to the literature of Alaska." 

The engagement of Emma M. Squires, '91, is announced. 

Clara M. Burt, '92, has been awarded a fellowship in Chemistry at 

Elizabeth Perry, '93, is teaching in the High School of Barre, Mass. 

Mary Brigham Hill, who is taking graduate work at Radcliffe this year, 
was the delegate from the Radcliffe Graduate Club to the Federation of 
Graduate Clubs in Baltimore. 

Carolyn J. Peck, '94, is teaching in Milton, Mass. 

Julia E. Phelps, '95, is teaching in Andes, N. Y. 

Lillian Swett, '96, is acting as proof reader for the Republican Press 
Association, in Concord, N. H. 

L. Constance Emerson, '96, spent Sunday, November 28, at the college. 

At the recent "Vassar Bazaar," in Chicago, the various colleges were 
represented. Wellesley's booth, decorated in the college blue, was under 
the care of Miss Pike, '92, Miss Pitkin, '95, Miss Belfield, '96, and other 
" old girls." 


Miss Emily Leonard, special, '85-89, is teaching Psychology and Eng- 
lish, in the Normal School, at Fitchburg, Mass. 

Miss Carrie Harrison, who did advanced work in the college botanical 
laboratories in '94-95 and '95-96, is now occupying a high position on the 
staff of the National Herbarium, under the Smithsonian Institution in Wash- 
ington, D. C. 

Miss Jennie C. Newcomb, special, '85-87, and later Assistant in the Bot- 
any Department, is now an active member of the Salvation Army. 

A meeting of the New York Wellesley Club was held on Saturday after- 
noon, December 19, at the home of Miss Grace Underwood, 145 West 58th 
Street, New York. The Club was entertained by readings, by Miss Collins, 
pianoforte playing, by Miss Beals and Miss Mitchell, and songs by Mrs. 
Van Lennep. 

A special meeting of the Chicago Wellesley Club was called by the 
president for the annual meeting usually held in November. 

The meeting was held at the home of Miss May Pitkin, '95, 234 East 
Avenue, Oak Park, 111. The business of the election of officers was post- 
poned until the November meeting, in accordance with a motion carried at 
the meeting. 

At about 2.30 p. m. Mrs. Crosby Adams claimed the willing attention of 
the members present by a lecture recital, " The Orchestra," with special 
reference to the personnel of the Chicago Orchestra and the music of the 

A most instructive afternoon was spent in listening to Miss Adams, 
whose efforts were supplemented by the exhibition of illustrations of various 
musical scores and pictures of instruments. Following the lecture, refresh- 
ments were served, after which the Club adjourned. 

Through a misunderstanding the Wellesley Alumnae lists of the Col- 
lege Settlement Association were not submitted to the Alumna? elector for 
correction before they were ready for the printer, and an error of $13 has 
has appeared in these lists. The amount contributed for 1895-96 by the 


Wellesley Alumnae was $866.25, instead of $853.25. All whose subscrip- 
tions were not duly recorded on the printed lists will be notified by the 
elector. She will be glad to be informed of any other necessary corrections. 

Wellesley subscribers to the College Settlements Association may be 
interested to see the exact amounts contributed to the Association for 
1895-96 by Smith, Wellesley, and Vassar, respectively : Smith College sub- 
scription, $507, Alumme subscription, $464.17, total, $971.17 ; Vassar College 
subscription, $235.75, Alumnae subscription, $721, total, $956.75 ; Wellesley 
College subscription, $316, Alumnae subscription, $866.25, total, $1,182.25. 

During November and December there has been given at the College 
Settlement in Philadelphia a course of lectures on " Proposed Remedies for 
Existing Social Disorders." The subjects have been: "The Single Tax," 
"Trades Unionism," "Government Ownership of Natural Monopolies," 
" Prohibition," " Fabian Socialism," and " The Competitive System." 

On January 6 a lecture on Window Gardening will be given at the 
Philadelphia Settlement, by John C. Lewis, under the auspices of the Civic 
Club. It is the intention of the Civic Club to distribute, free of cost, plants 
to all those who desire them for the purpose of beautifying their homes. 

Miss Marion Ballou, formerly a special student at Wellesley, is spend- 
ing a part of the winter at the Philadelphia Settlement. 

The graduate chapter of Bryn Mawr has undertaken a circulating 
library of Settlement literature for the benefit of its members. 

A Christmas gift of $12.36, in the name of Wellesley, was presented 
to the Philadelphia Settlement by the girls of the Walnut Lane Seminary, 
Germantown, Philadelphia, Pa. 


Taussig-Brewster. — In New York City, Dec. 12, 1896, Miss Sophia 
L. Brewster, '80, to Mr. Walter M. Taussig. 

Ells-Ely.— In Milwaukee, Wis., Dec. 30, 1896, Miss Marion A. Ely, 
89, to Dr. Benjamin F. Ells, of Rockford, 111. 


Cristy-Mayse. — In Washington, D. C., Nov. 26, 1896, Miss Elizabeth 
Mayse, '92, to Mr. Jesse E. Cristy. At home at 595 Orchard Street, 
Chicago, 111. 

Hooper-Courser. — In Dover, N. H., July 8, 1896, Miss Alice Bertha 
Courser, '92, to Mr. A. Frank Hooper, of Bridgewater, Mass. 

Smith-Bixby. — In Los Angeles, Cal., Dec. 31, 1896, Miss Sarah 
Hathaway Bixby, '94, to Mr. Arthur Maxson Smith. At home 220 West 
State Street, Marshall, Mich. 

Flagg-Pressey. — At Rochester, N. Y., Dec. 16, 1896, Miss Edna 
Frances Pressey, '94, to Mr. Charles Fobes Flagg, brother of Nancy Flagg, 
special, '91-94. 

O'Brien-James. — At Westchester, Pa., Dec. 15, 1896, Miss Helen 
James, '95, to Mr. Archibald Maclean O'Brien. 

Thomas-Wilt. — In Dayton, Ohio, Oct. 13, 1896, Miss Mary Den- 
nison Wilt, formerly of '97, to Dr. Jerome B. Thomas, of Brooklyn, 
N. Y. 

Smith-Hubbard. — In Brooklyn, on Dec. 23, 1896, Miss Isabel D. 
Hubbard, special, '87-88, to Mr. Henry Wilson Smith, of the Theological 
Seminary, Princeton, N. J. 


November 30, 1896, in Chicago, 111., a daughter to Mrs. Grace 
Gruber Clayes, '92. 

December 23, 1896, at Rosemont, Pa., a son, William H. Weimer, 3d, 
to Mrs. Grace Ford Weimer, '95. 

October 16, '96, a son, Hamlin Ryder, to Mrs. Marie Ryder Sylvester, 
formerly of '96. 



In Seattle, Washington, Nov. 14, '96, Mrs. Nellie Mitchell Towne, 
formerly of '83. 

In Fitchburg, Jan. 7, 1897, Dr. Lyman Jewett, father of Mrs. Helen 
Jewett Young, '84. 

In Savannah, Ga., Nov. 30, 1896, Mrs. William Pearson Hardee, 
mother of Elizabeth B. Hardee, '94. 

In Los Angeles, Cal., Dec. 5, 1896, Llewellyn Bixby, father of Sarah 
Bixby, '94, and Anne L. Bixby, formerly of '97. 

In Longwood, Mass., Dec. 7, 1896, Alice Maud Hollander, special, 

In Wellesley, Mass., Dec. 31, 1896, Mr. Leander M. Crawford, Super- 
intendent of Buildings and Grounds of Wellesley College. 



Nos. 202 to 212 Boylston Street, and Park Square, 

Our Annual Clearance Sale . . . Commences Monday, December 28th 

Continuing through January. 

We shall offer our entire stock of Ladies' Dresses, 
Garments, Millinery, Underwear, Gloves, Hosiery, 
Dress Goods, etc., etc., AT PRICES TO CLOSE. 

An opportunity is afforded by this Sale to secure the Finest Goods at less than much more 

ordinary goods are usually sold for. 

"Y" OUR attention is called to our assortment of 

Jewelry and Silverware 


ARTICLES for the Toilet Table and 
Writing Desk, in artistic patterns, 
a specialty. 

The newest designs of Fancy Jewelry, 
Hair Ornaments, Fans, and Opera 
Glasses in stock. 

We respectfully invite you to visit our store, whether you purchase or not. 

A. StOWell & Co., 24 Winter Street, Boston. 

Kent Place School 


for Girls, 


Summit, New Jersey. 

Street Costumes, Bicycling 
and Golfing Suits, Topcoats, 

Hamilton W. Mabie, 

Application may be made to the 

Evening Gowns, Wraps, Mantles, Etc. 

Choicest imported materials, artistic and ap- 
propriate in cut, finest workmanship. 

Special inducements to young ladies. 

Mrs. Sarah Woodman Paul. 

304 Boylston Street, . . BOSTON. 



Delicious ^ Qa& 


J 46 Tremont Street, 
I BOSTON, Mass. yi 




snepam, Korweii & Go. 

Deliver all packages at the 
College and in Wellesley free 
of charge £•£•£•£•£•£•£•& 

Mil Ul(llub Stand the Light! 
The more light the more good 
points you see. 

Perfect satisfaction in every purchase, 
and that backed up to the letter. Men- 
tion this advertisement. 

UnderWOOd, Leader in Footwear 

3 Clark's Block, Natick. 

The Young Ladies' Attention is called to something 
very attractive in a 

French Flannel Shirt Waist, 

which has been made to order in the most Fashionable 
colors and very "Chic" style for 


No. 44 Temple Place, Boston. 

The Young Ladies should make a special examination of these Waists, as they are 

proving wonderfully satisfactory. 


335 Washington Street, Boston. 

College Athletic and Gymnasium Outfitters. 


Crew Sweaters and Jerseys, which are also suitable for all athletic purposes, made to order in any 

style in the best manner. 
A Discount of 10 per cent is given Wellesley students on individual orders. Special net rates for crew or team orders. 


MRS ^C%^A^ 

Photographer to the Class of '97 

Ifos. 74 and 88 Boylston Street, 




The elegant Sabine Edition of Eugene Field; Houghton, 
Mifflin & Co.'s beautiful editions of the American authors, 
Lowell, Hawthorne, Emerson, Holmes, Whittier and Long, 
fellow, superbly illustrated with 375 steel engravings and 
original etchings, on Japan paper, by far the best, and the only 
illustrated editions published. 

ALL the Standard Editions of Dickens, Thackeray, Bulwer, 
Dumas, Waverly, Eliot, Victor Hugo, and other authors, in 
select bindings. All the Standard Dictionaries and Encyclo- 
pedias. The complete set delivered at once, and payments at the 
rate of $1 or $2 per month, will be satisfactory. 

Prices charged are guaranteed to be the lowest cash 

Address, "X," 

Care of Wellesley riagazine. 


Rooms l, 2 and 3 

218 Boylston Street 



Tailor-made Costumes and 

No. 3-44 Boylston Street 



Royal Worcester Corsets, $1.00, $1.25, 
$1.50, and upwards. 

French Corsets, $1.50, $2.00, $2.25, and 

Glove Fitting Corsets, 75 cts., $1.00, $1.25, 
$1.50, and upwards. 

R. & Q. Corsets, 75 cts., $1.00, $1.25, and 

Ferris Good Sense Waists, 75 cts., $1.00, 
$1.25, and upwards. 

Jackson Waists, $1.25, $1.50. 

Equipoise Waists, $1.75, $2.00, $2.25, and 


Examine our Pongee Silk Corset. Whale- 
bone, $3.50. 


Next to Chandler & Company. 

No. 21 Winter Street, Boston. 


Private Corset Parlors 

Corsets and Bustles Made to Order 

Bigelow & Kenoard Building, 
Nos. o and 10 


E. IV. Hodgson & Company, 

Ryes scientifically tested, $1.00. 

Glasses (rimless if desired), $1.50 ; Gold, •, 
and upward. Astigmatic Lenses, $1.00 additional. 
Prescriptions filled at these prices. Optkalmic opti- 
cians only in attendance. 

Best Watch Work and Watches in the city. Mr. 
Hodgson recently head watchmaker for Messrs. 
Bigelow, Ketmard & Co. (6 years -with them), 4 
years -with Messrs. Shreve, Crump & Low Co. 

Special prices to Students on Watchwork. 

7 Temjyle Place, Room 4.4., Boston. 

Take Elevator. 

Joseph Perkins, 

Reasonable Rates . . . Special Terms by 
the Quarter; Lessons given Day or Evening. 

j^Agent for J. F. Luscomb's Latest Banjos^t 

Noted for their . . . 

Brilliancy of Tone and Finish. 

172 Tremont Street, Room 36, 


Dr. Charles H. Veo 

(D.M.D., Harvard University) 

Dr. Louis N. Veo 

(D.M.D., Harvard University) 


Crown and Bridge =Work 

Lady Assistant always in Attendance 

Hotel Pel ham, 74 Boylston Street 


. F. H. DENNIS, 

Passe Panoiit ann Frame plater. 

Maps, Panels, and Velvet Work. 
Old Engravings Restored. 

Wood and Gold Frames of the Latest 

338 Washington St., Boston. 
TF you will try Mrs. Dr. J. E. Bishop's 


you will be relieved of headaches caused 
by loss of sleep, overwork, or nervous- 

Mrs. Dr. J. E. Bishop, 

Hotel Pelham, 74 Boylston Street, Boston. 


Penhallow Tales, by Edith Robinson, with cover 
design by C. B. Murphy. Cloth, octavo, $1.25. 

The title of Miss Robinson's book is taken from the opening 
story, which it will be remembered created no little attention 
sometime ago when it appeared in The Century. 

M6re Songs from Vagabondia, by Bliss Carman 
and Richard Hovey, with new designs by T. B. 
Meteyard. Paper, boards, $1.00. 

Companion volume to " Songs from Vagabondia," now in 
its third edition. 

No. 69 Cornhill, Boston. 



These Steamers are appointed to sail from BOSTON 

These new and immense steamships are the largest vessels 
sailing from Boston, and have a limited number of staterooms 
for first cabin passengers at very moderate rates. No steerage 

The staterooms are large and roomy, and are located on 
the top of Bridge Deck, thus insuring the best of ventilation. 

WINTER RATES, $45 and $50; Excursion, $85 and $95. 

The Adams Cable Codex. The most complete cipher code 
issued for circulation among travellers. 

For passage, cabin plans, etc., apply to 


General Passenger Agents, 
115 State Street, cor. Broad Street, . . . BOSTON. 



Makers of 


to the 


i?i?i?i: Illustrated Catalogue and Particulars on Application^^e^^ 



Headquarters for 



Ladies' Handkerchiefs. 


0^" Temple Place, Boston. 

Shreve, Crump I Low Co. 



Fine Stationery. Card Engraving. 

Programs and Invitations, both printed and 
engraved. Class Day Programs a specialty. 

Class Pins designed and manufactured to 

Parasols and Umbrellas made to order, re- 
covered and repaired. 


. .ONLY. . 

First Class Tfpii Car 


Through Trains Leave Boston as follows : — 

8.30 a. m. (except Sunday) Day Express. 
IO.30 a. m. (daily) Chicago Special. 
2.00 p. m. (daily) North Shore Limited. 
3.00 p. m. (except Sunday) St. Louis and 

Chicago Express. 
7.15 p. m. (daily) Pacific Express. 


. . FOR . . 

Hartford, New Havens New York. 



9.00 a. m. (except Sunday) 3. 30 p. m. 

11.00 a. m. (except Sunday) 5.28 p. m. 

12.00 m. (except Sunday) 5.32 p. m. 

4.00 p. m. (daily) 10.00 p. m. 

(New Equipment built by the Pullman Co ) 

11.00 p.m. (daily) 6.41a.m. 

For tickets, information, time-tables, etc., appl/ 
to nearest ticket agent. 


General Passenger Agent. 



The attention of students is called to our 
new Carbonette*. These are photographic 
reproductions in brown tone, closely imita- 
ting imported Carbons, but at our usual 
prices. We have added also a new line of 
picture frames especially adapted for students' 
rooms, giving artistic effects at very reasona- 
ble prices. 

Soule Photograph Co., 

338 Washington Street, Boston. 

Wright & Ditson. 

new England's leading athletic outfitters. 

Every Requisite for . . . 

$ Athletic Sports and Pastimes 

Golf, Tennis, basket ball, 
skating, etc. 

Gymnasium, Fencing and Outing Uniforms 
of every description. 

Prompt and careful attention given to mail orders. 

Wright & Ditson, 

iso. 344 Washington Street, Boston, Mass 

The Dana Hall School, 


Pupils are prepared for regular or for special courses at 
Wellesley College. 

Price for Board and Tuition, $500 for the school year; 
Tuition for day pupils, $125. 

For further information address the Principals : 

Julia A. Eastman, 
Sarah P. Eastman. 



mounted in glass. 

XHHelleelep pbarmac\>, 



Fine Stationery and Engraving House 

1121 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. 



Heraldry and Genealogy a Specialty. 

Coats of Arms Painted for Framing. 


I^oman's Medical College of the 

New York Infirmary for Women and Children. 

AESSION '96-97 opens October 1, 1896. Four years, Graded Course. 
^ Instruction by Lectures, Clinics, Recitations and practical work, under 
supervision in Laboratories, and Dispensary of College, and in New York 
Infirmary. Clinics and operations in most of the City Hospitals and Dis- 
pensaries open to Women Students. For Catalogues, etc., address 

321 East Fifteenth Street, 
New York. 




Fine Tortoise Shell Goods. 

Salesroom, 7 TEMPLE PLACE. 

Factory, 363 Washington St., BOSTON. 

Special discount to Wellesley Students. 

Stationer and Picture Dealer. 

Special attention given to Framing 
Pictures at reasonable prices, jtjtjt 

It is of easy access by the Electric Cars. 

No. 2 flain Street, Natick, Hass. 


Trimmed and Untrlmmed Hats. 
Bicycle and Walking Hats a Specialty. 

Our Dress-lining Department is the 
largest in the city. <it «^t S <£* •£ •£ 
Special prices to Wellesley Students. 




lUellesley Preparatory, 


For circular address the Principals, 


Established 1843. Incorporated 1895. 


Largest Stock and Lowest 
Prices on 


Mathematical Instruments, 

Drawing Materials and Picture Frames 



Importers and Wholesale Dealers, 

'Special Rates to Colleges." 

New Illustrated Catalogue Free. 



It is generally conceded that a stringed instrument 
is almost an absolute necessity. To secure the 
greatest enjoyment from the purchase get the best 
your money will afford. Expert judgment 
pronounces the "Bay State" instruments 
the finest in the world. An excellent instru- 
ment is the 


We have in stock cheaper banjos than this, 
but for a substantial, serviceable instrument 
at a low price, no other instrument manufac- 
tured can compare with it. Send for illus- 
trated catalogue. 

453-463 Washington Street, Boston. 




FULL LINE of Hand Cameras and 
Material^^^Negatives Developed. 
Prints Made and Mounted^*^^*.^^ 


Wellesley Graduates are always in demand. 
Register now. 


William F. Jarvis, Manager. 

Send for registration blanks and circulars. 




A Large Variety in the Latest Styles. 

Fancy Goods, Novelties, Picture Frames, 
Bicycles, etc., etc. 


x6 Main Street, .\alick, Mass. 

First-Class Work. Prompt Service. 

Class and Society Printing: a Specialty. 

We Guarantee Satisfaction. 

"The Bulletin Press," 

x8 Main Street, Katick, Mass. 

ivlCl vJlOVCSj Hosiery, Underwear and Ribbons, Embroidery 
Silks, Stamped Linens, Denims, Art Muslins, and Cretonnes.«56«5&«^ 

J. B. Leamy, Natick, Mass. 

tO per cent discount to all 

Professors and Students of 
Wellesley College. 

Artists'. . . 

Drafting Instruments. Art Studies and Books. 

Oil and Water Colors, Crayons, Materials 
For Tapestry, Painting, etc. 

waflsworm Howiann 4 Co., - 82 and 84 Washington 8!., Boston. 

Branch Store in the Grundmann Studios, Clarendon Street, near St. James Avenue. Principal Factories, Maiden. 

Mass., and South Paris, Maine. 

O. A. Jenkins & Co. 


Ladies' Sailor and English Walking Hats 
of our own Importation. «^ Exclusive Styles. 

Sole Agents for Connelly's New York Turbans. 


Perfect Comfort 

For women and positive style. That's what we studied 
for. That's what we have. Not a toe crowded. Noth- 
ing to pinch or hurt. 

TheH. H. "TuttleShoe" 

is made on men's lasts. Has that graceful outside 
swing that gives the little toe breathing room. Double- 
soled calf for those who want heavy shoes. Lighter 
grades for others. $4 to $8 is the price. Discount to 
Students and Faculty. 

H. H. TUTTLE & CO., 

Washington St., cor. Winter Street. 

The Fisk Teachers' Agencies. 

4 Ashburton Place, Boston, Mass. 

70 Fifth Avenue, New York City, N. Y. 
1242 Twelfth Street, Washington, D. C. 
3J5 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, 111. 

25 King Street, West Toronto, Canada. 

420 Century Building, Minneapolis, Minn. 

107 Keith & Perry Building, Kansas City, Mo. 
728 Cooper Building, Denver, Col. 

525 Stimson Block, Los Angeles, Cal. 

Joel Goldthwait & Company, 

Oriental Carpets and Rugs. Axininsters, Wilton and 

Brussels Carpets. 

We are now ready to show the finest line we ever opened in 

Foreign and Domestic Carpets. 

All new in style, and adapted to the present furnishings. 
Our own special patterns. Our open stock is full at prices lower than ever. 

Joel Goldthwait & Company, 

Near Corahill. 

163 to 169 Washington Street, Boston, Mass. 

In every department of our store we allow Wellesley Professors and 
Students a discount, generally 10 per cent. 

We deliver all goods free of express charges at Wellesley College and Dana Hall. 

During the year you will notice many attractive goods which your friends at home 
would be glad to see. We shall be glad to send samples at your request. 

Dress Goods, Hosiery, Neckwear, Millinery, 
Underwear and Art Embroideries 

are perhaps some of the departments most interesting to students, but the discount applies 
to every department. 


Tremont Street and Temple Place, - - BOSTON, MASS. 


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Ladies' and Children's 

Specialty Garment House. 

Young Ladies' Coats, Suits, 
Wraps, Fur Capes, Rain-proof 
Garments, Silk Petticoats, 
and Tea Gowns. 

The Latest Paris and Berlin Novelties 

Always in Stock at 
Moderate Prices. . . 

531 and 533 Washington Street, Boston 

Next door to Boston Theatre. 

Frank Wood, Printer, Boston.